


All That Glitters

by othellia



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Cold Weather, Complicated Relationships, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Enemies, Mind Games, Minor Character Death, Politics, Post-Canon, Romance, Slow Burn, Unofficial Sequel, dark!Hans, in that exact order, played from both sides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2018-03-01 21:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 46
Words: 168,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2788292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/othellia/pseuds/othellia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna is in the middle of a visit to the Kingdom of Corona when a mysterious blizzard strikes. As the only person with semi-relevant experience, she sets out to find out what - or who - is behind it all. However, there's only one man who seems to hold any answers, and he might be more trouble than he's worth…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act One: Part One

“But it’d pretty much burn a hole in your tongue at that point, so after that you need to soak it for another five days-“

"Anna!"

Anna turned to see her cousin rushing towards her through the crowded ballroom. Even without the small tiara, she would've stuck out by the ragged cropping of her brown hair.

"Rapunzel!" Anna cried. The two clasped hands, bouncing in glee. “I’m so sorry! I know I should’ve found you first, but it was just crazy! The winds stopped not even an hour from shore. Boom. I’m telling you I looked out and the surface was like a lake. Our captain was practically ready to break out the life boats and personally row me to the castle when they finally picked up again. And then by the time we docked, the party was in full swing so-“

"Don't worry, our messengers told us everything.” Rapunzel smiled. “You look great by the way. I take it you got ready on the ship?”

“Yep. Hair, makeup, and everything… although I can't help but feel like I smell like seaweed. Do I smell like seaweed? I mean, Renaldo here keeps assuring me I'm fine, but- Oh!"

Anna’s hand swept over her mouth in shock as she remembered her up-until-now conversation partner.

"I'm soooo so so sorry!" Anna said, turning to the tall, yet portly man. "This is Relnado, the Lord of… of…"

“Anjou.”

“Anjou! And this is my cousin and the Crown Princess of Corona, Rapunzel."

"Your highness," Relnado said, sweeping into a seasoned bow. "I can see you two have a lot to catch up on. It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Princess Anna.”

"Oh, you don't have to…" she trailed off as the older lord already began walking away. "Okay then."

As Anna sighed, Rapunzel gave her an encouraging smile.

"Was I rude?" Anna asked, turning to her cousin once again. "I didn't forget his title on purpose, and I do think the conversation was going rather well. Well, I guess I was doing most the talking. You know, I don’t think lutefisk is really a _thing_ here.”

“You were fine,” Rapunzel said. “Okay, I’m not going to lie; there are probably better conversation topics. But overall I just know you're going to be the most amazing junior member of the Arendelle consulate ever!”

Anna couldn’t help the smile that crept up the left side of her face.

The two were far from the closest cousins that’d ever walked the earth. In fact, they‘d never even met until her sister's coronation, flight, and subsequent return.

A byproduct of their shared… _sequestered_ childhood.

But after the initial introductions and the whirlwind that’d followed, Rapunzel had quickly invited Anna to visit Corona. Anna had been hesitant at first, clinging to her elder sister with every new second she had. Then, after the first couple months proved that the castle gates were never going to close again, she’d accepted.

It hadn't been until the ship reached the edge of the harbor that Anna had realized it was her first time being outside of Arendelle since she was four years old. And when she finally stepped foot in her cousin's kingdom, her mind had gone into sensory overload.

In a way, it'd never snapped out of it.

For so many years Anna had written herself off as the spare, the sibling destined to skip around the castle for the rest of her life cradling ducks and sliding across waxed floors to pass the time. Not that she didn't _like_ cradling ducks and sliding across floors - quite the opposite in fact - but between Elsa ruling the kingdom and Kristoff busy with his ice enterprise, the potential of being able to help out and make a difference for once, her own personal and unique difference, really got her heart pounding.

So she'd talked it over with Kristoff and then had talked it over with Elsa, and one year later here she was, the newest and youngest member of Arendelle's consul to Corona, providing assistance and support to the official Ambassador.

Anna only wished she’d gotten a cool pin or a badge or a medal or something to display as physical proof of her accomplishment, but she supposed the title would have to do.

"Sooo," Rapunzel continued. "How are things in Arendelle?"

"Good, good,” Anna said with a smile. “Elsa's really warmed up to whole 'queen' thing. Well, ‘warmed up’ might not be the best choice of words, but you know what I mean. Kristoff’s still caught up in the whole ice delivery reformation thing… Do you guys have ice delivers here? Anyway, it doesn't make that much sense anymore to travel weeks into the mountains to grab ice when Elsa can just - poof! - conjure it of thin air. But she can't make ice for the whole kingdom because then she wouldn't have any time to get queen stuff done, and even if she did then there's all the questions on who gets to sell what ice? Does ice cost less now because it's easier to get? Should the people living in Arendelle itself get an additional discount because it gets created right there in the palace? If it's getting created in the palace, do they even _need_ an ice deliver? Ugh! Personally it gives me a headache just thinking about it."

Rapunzel giggled. "Then I won’t ask any further.”

"You'd think that having magic powers and stuff would be a cause for cheer," Anna continued, now on a roll. "That people would go, 'Oh, our queen has super awesome magic ice powers? She must be the best queen ever!’ Talk about never having to worry about the threat of war!”

Several people turned their heads at the mention of the 'w' word, but Anna pressed on.

"I mean, if I was a random stranger, that's what _I’d_ certainly think. And don't get me wrong, everyone loves the city-wide skating rinks in the summer. But it's like every other single, tiny, little thing, they somehow manage to sink their hands in and wrench it into a bureaucratic nightmare!” Her fingers curled as she mimed out the last part.

"Sounds like you all are doing just fine."

"Yeah… I guess we are. Oh, and how have you and Eugene been doing?"

"Good. Good. Did you know just the other day—“

The two cousins chattered on, inviting people over and waving hello to others as the ebb and flow of the crowd saw fit. Anna excused herself at one point to grab some chocolate cake that'd been rolled out, bumped into her Aunt Primrose - regal and soft-spoken as always, and got swept up into their - now usual - conversation about how Anna was looking more and more like her mother.

"Honestly, I think Elsa looks more like her than I ever did, but thank—”

"Ahem!"

The two women turned to see a rather nervous and harried-looking servant clutching a small strip of paper.

"Yes?" Aunt Primrose asked.

"May I speak to Your Majesty? Alone, please?"

Aunt Primrose frowned.

"Anna, dear," she said, clasping her niece’s hands. "Hopefully this should only take a second. Would you mind waiting here?"

"Umm, not at all."

The two swept out through an inconspicuous side door. She stood in place, holding her uneaten piece of cake, as Rapunzel pushed her way through the crowd with Eugene now in tow.

"What happened? I saw Mother just leave."

"I'm not sure… A servant grabbed. I think he was holding some kind of message.” Anna frowned. “It must’ve of been extremely urgent."

“If it is, I hope it’s nothing too bad,” Rapunzel said. Her face creased with worry.

"Uh… hi, by the way," Eugene said, with a little wave to Anna.

"Oh, yes! Hi, Eugene.”

With no light topics springing to mind, the three lapsed into silence. Finally Aunt Primrose re-emerged, her face noticeably paler than it'd been just a few minutes ago.

"Mother!” Rapunzel cried. "What-"

"Not right now," she said with a smile and one eye locked on the sea of guests. “Stay with me. We don’t want to cause a scene."

Rapunzel's eyes were wide, but she slowly nodded. Then Aunt Primrose turned to Anna.

"You on the other hand. Peter is waiting in the room beyond that door. I need you to go and listen to what he has to say.”

"Anna?" Rapunzel said.

"Me?"

"Yes, you'll understand as soon as you hear it. We'll be back as soon as our absence can go unnoticed."

With a sweep of her arm, Aunt Primrose herded Rapunzel away. Eugene followed with a sympathetic shrug.

Anna was alone once more.

With her cake.

Feeling like she was about to need the energy boost, she gobbled down as much as she could in one go. She placed the rest on a table full of similarly half-eaten dishes, took a deep breath, and walked through the door.

The servant from earlier was nervously pacing the length of a small hallway. The Queen had called him Peter… He glanced up as the door clicked shut behind her.

"Princess Anna?"

She nodded.

"Her majesty said you have some experience in these matters. For all our sakes, I hope this is true."

Before she could respond, he thrust the small strip of paper into her hands. The dim light of the hallway made it a bit difficult at first, but she soon read aloud:

"Disaster and chaos in Wallonia. Unnatural blizzard- Blizzard?!" Her head whipped up only for Peter to gesture for her to keep reading. "Unnatural blizzard has frozen the kingdom. Storm only seems to be spreading. We pray this reaches you in time to prepare."

Anna flipped over the paper, scanning it for any other sort of details or explanation, but that was it.

She looked at Peter again. “Where did you get this?”

“Messenger bird,” he said. “Less than half an hour ago. Poor beast looked like it’d been to hell and back. Brought the message straight to her majesty.”

"The storm is spreading… They mean it's coming here?"

"We can only assume."

Anna bit her lip, pondering.

"And there's no possible way whoever wrote this meant it as a joke?” she finished hopefully, if a bit lamely.

"Wallonia is one of our closest allies. They would not 'joke' about serious matters such as these."

Anna frowned and reread the few small lines.

"The Queen said you'd experienced this before?” Peter asked.

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean…" Anna took a deep breath. "I've dealt with magical blizzards, sure. But that was less about the actual weather and more with the person behind it all."

"Could there be a person behind this?"

“Perhaps…” Anna said.

If Elsa had managed to hide her powers from the whole world for over twenty years, it was reasonable that someone could be out there with similar powers. That there could be someone just as scared and isolated as she’d been.

"But even then," Anna said. "What can I do?"

"That, my lady, is what we hoped _you'd_ be able to tell _us_."

Anna waited in the suddenly claustrophobic hallway. She waited for her aunt and Rapunzel to return. She waited for some great plan to strike, for her brain to suddenly explode with ideas. She waited for another servant to arrive, this time with a message saying that - despite Peter's opinion - it was indeed just a joke.

And what had been her great plan last time? She’d jumped on the back of a horse and took off in the general direction of the mountains. No preparation, no supplies other than a light cloak… Even Kristoff had scoffed at her so called "plan."

Granted, everything had worked out okay in the end, but that was _after_ she'd almost been eaten by wolves, and Elsa had accidentally frozen her heart, and she'd turned to ice and almost died, and _Elsa_ had almost died…

To be entirely honest, the way she’d made it through those three days had more to do with luck than any great plan or skill on her part. And even though Anna liked to believe that luck was _her_ secret, magical power, even she didn't want to tempt fate that hard. Charging out blindly into this storm was _probably_ not the best solution out there.

At the same time… did she have any other options?

"Okay, can you please tell me what is going on now?" came the sound of her cousin’s voice.

Aunt Primrose and Rapunzel made their way through the door seconds later. With no further prompting, Anna passed the message to her cousin who quickly read it and paled.

"A blizzard? In summer?" She glanced up to meet Anna's eyes. "But you've fixed this sort of thing before, right?"

Anna took a deep breath, trying not to scream.

"What happened last time was different," she said. "I was the one who got Elsa mad, who triggered everything. When she ran away, I knew I had to go find her. All the snow and ice… okay, yes, they were important - the whole kingdom nearly froze to death, but at the heart that ’thing’ was always just about the two of us. And I wasn't even the one who thawed the ice, Elsa did."

Her aunt looked thoughtful. "Is there anyway Elsa can come here?"

Anna's face lit up temporarily before fading again. "I don't think that would work,” she said glumly. “It'd take several days to get a message to Arendelle and then another week for Elsa to actually travel here. And that's assuming the seas stay calm and clear. If a blizzard’s coming and it’s anything like the ones Arendelle gets, that’s far too long to sit around and do nothing."

“Surely it wouldn’t hurt to at least send the message though.”

“Maybe, but…”

Anna always hated sea travel in less than perfect weather. How could she not be? Her parents… And then to put Elsa at risk…

But did she really have the power to stop Elsa from coming? If they couldn’t find a solution, Elsa was the only person in the entire world that might be able put a stop to it. She’d be saving the lives of thousands…

_Far more than you’ve ever been able to do_ , a nasty part of her whispered.

It was worth the risk.

“Alright,” Anna said. “We can send a message to her. But we need to do something else in the meantime.”

"Well then,” her aunt said. “Corona defers to your judgement. What do you think is our best course of action?"

"I… I…"

There were a lot of really terrible things about her last plan. It hadn't even really been a _plan_ … It'd nearly gotten everyone _killed_ …

But at least it'd been something.

“I need to go to Wallonia and find out where this blizzard came from," Anna said, a new, weak confidence sprouting up beneath each word.

"Just you?" Rapunzel asked.

"Oh, no. Others are definitely welcome to come along!" Anna said. "But you're half right. Even if what happened with my sister isn’t exactly the same as what’s going on right now, there might be _something_ that overlaps. Maybe I’ll see things and connect things that others wouldn't. And if there _is_ a person who’s causing this, I can talk to them in a way that no one else can't."

"I can provide guards to accompany you," Aunt Primrose said. "Peter will see that you have plenty of warm clothes and provisions. The border of Wallonia is a two day ride from here, but if this storm is as bad as the message says, it may take longer."

Anna bit her lip. "I should leave tonight then. Are any your guards experienced in navigating winter storms?"

“Not many, I admit,” she said. “But we’ll find who we can.”

"Vladimir is originally from the North," Rapunzel said to her mother. "And maybe Maximus could go with her too. I know he’s still recovering from that training incident with the new steel frying pans, but I know he’d be a lot of help. And maybe I—“

“You will stay here,” the queen said firmly. “As the Crown Princess, it is your duty to help take care of your people. Once word of this storm breaks, it’s going to take everything we have to keep order and keep everyone safe.”

Rapunzel sighed. “I suppose you’re right,” she said. “Just… stay safe, Anna. Okay?”

Anna smiled. “I will,” she said. “Just you see. It will be summer again before you know it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my Anna/Hans themed Frozen sequel. It will have five acts. I have the first act currently rough drafted out. Elsa and Kristoff will eventually make an appearance, but not until the second act.
> 
> It will be epic.


	2. Act One: Part Two

Anna sat tall on Maximus. Her guards huddled against the cold beside her while she gazed out over the coastal plain. Even from her hilltop vantage point, it was hard to make out the precise shape of the coastline in the sea of white. The wind whipped at her frost dusted hair, rubbing raw the small portion of exposed skin around her eyes.

She continued to scan, looking for any signs of life or settlement until…

"There!" she shouted through her scarf, pointing.

The leader of her guards, a brawny man by the name of Thomas, squinted and then nodded.

"Do you know what it is?” she asked.

"I might," he replied. "There are several cities in this region. That one… if I'm judging the size right and we haven’t veered too much off course, must be either Stralshagen or Amersdam.”

"Friendly?"

"To be sure. Although… who knows after all this."

Anna glanced at the rest of her party. The six of them had set out from Corona nearly five days ago: a princess, four standard castle guards, and a very large, reformed brigand. Anna had gasped at his towering size when he’d first shown up, but Rapunzel had assured her that the man had a heart as dainty and precious as a ceramic unicorn.

Anna had no idea what ceramics had to do with anything, but she went with it.

There was also… a seventh. Kind of.

Rapunzel had told her stories about Maximus, but Anna hadn’t believed half of them until it’d been Maximus up in the front of their party, navigating them from village to village. She guessed the horse also counted as a castle guard; apparently he was one of the senior ranking commanders.

The first day of their journey had been pleasantly warm and uneventful.

On the second day, they’d woken up to a fresh dusting of snow on the summer ground and the reality of dealing with _another_ magical winter had actually hit her.

The wind and snow had only thickened since then.

By the end of the second day, they’d reached the capital of Wallonia, but its king had only been able to point them in the direction of the northeasterly wind. Anna and her party had set off again the next morning, stopping at every village and tavern they came across, hoping for even the tiniest glimmers of information.

They went from Wallonia to Weideland (with a similar meeting with the royal family there) to the kingdom beyond that…

Anna hadn’t lost hope yet. Traveling upwind against the storm was a solid strategy and was how Kristoff had tracked down Elsa, but it definitely had its downsides. Travel grew exponentially more difficult with each passing mile. They frequently had to get off and walk alongside their horses in an attempt to give the animals a poor excuse for a rest.

Anna was exhausted. They all were. This town was the last thing between them and the sea. If the people there were just as clueless as the others had been…

No. The path had led her this far for a reason. She’d find what she was looking for.

Anna peered at the barely visible coastline one more time. Arendelle lay somewhere far beyond its murky depths. Had her aunt and uncle sent a message to Elsa yet? Had it reached her sister, or was its messenger still clinging to the side of a boat as it was tossed by the ocean like a ball of yarn between a cat’s paws?

Anna whispered a silent prayer that whoever’d been chosen for the delivery remained safe.

“Princess?” Thomas asked through chattering teeth, clearly awaiting a command. She could tell they were all eager to get off this hill where the wind cut the strongest.

Anna drew herself up as regally as possible despite her many layers of padding. “We’ll head towards that town,” she said. “Ask for some more food and supplies and any information they might have.”

Her companions nodded - her short speech very similar to others she’d given so far - and set off.

As they rode closer, Anna could see that the city was surrounded by a very tall, stone wall. Far from being intimidated, Anna let out a small sigh of relief. The biting wind these days was worse than the actual temperatures at times. Some of the villages they’d passed through had no protection against it, harsh gales cutting through every last gap and seam of the small wooden huts they could find.

At the very least, maybe she’d manage to have a warm roof over her head tonight. Perhaps in the morning she’d even be able to put on boots that hadn’t frozen overnight.

A large oak gate barred their entrance from the city. After a brief search, Maximus spotted a small gatekeeper’s panel towards the right of the frame and pointed his body directly at it. Anna went to knock, but Thomas insisted that such a lowly task was a guard’s duty.

“It’s really not—” Anna stopped. She was fine with whatever made him happy and got them inside the town quickest.

He dismounted and rapped his padded knuckles on the gate. The wooden panel slammed back. A pair of squinting brown eyes judged them from the other side of the peephole.

“We’re not taking in anymore refugees,” a man’s voice barked. “You’ll have to find shelter elsewhere.”

The panel slammed shut.

It only took Thomas a few seconds to recompose himself before he began knocking again, but the gatekeeper was ignoring them now.

Anna shivered.

“I could probably knock whole thing down,” came Vladimir’s deep, rumbling voice beside her. “This craftsmanship. Very shoddy.”

Anna forced a smile. “Thank you, Vladimir,” she said. “But I don’t think that’s the best way to make a first impression.”

“I assure you. I will make very deep impression.”

“Yes. And I’ll keep that suggestion in mind, but let me try one more thing first.”

She hopped off Maximus’ back and trudged through the snow to where Thomas stood. The guard quickly began apologizing for his failure, but Anna waved him silent. Then she turned her attention towards the gate.

“Hey! Hey! I know you can hear me over there!” she yelled in-between pounds. “We’re not refugees, okay? We’re on a quest to stop this winter, so could you just—”

The panel slid open. Anna let out a brilliant smile that faded slightly at the wretched glare that answered her.

“Stop this winter? How?”

“Well…”

She suspected the man wasn’t the type to be impressed by a simple ‘find information’ answer. The gatekeeper picked up on her hesitation and moved to slam the panel back yet again, but not before Anna’s arm shot out and wedged itself in the hole.

She cried out in pain but kept her arm firmly in place.

“Get your arm out my gate, woman!”

“Not until you listen to what I have to say!”

“Oh, I’ve listened and it’s clear you have nothing. Now go!” he shouted, slamming it again and again on her arm trying to force her to withdraw.

From behind her, Anna could hear the sound of steel being drawn.

Right. Aunt Primrose had made her guards swear a vow to protect her no matter the cost, and now here she was letting her arm get nearly broken by the feel of it.

“Just stop! I know— Ow! My name is— Anna!” she hissed out. “Princess of— Arendelle!”

The gatekeeper stopped.

“Did you say ‘Arendelle’?” he asked.

“Ugh… yes.”

“As in the kingdom of Arendelle? Up north and all?”

“Yes!” she cried, exasperated. “Why?”

“Why didn’t you say that to begin with? They’ve been talking about Arendelle?”

“…they?”

But the gatekeeper didn’t answer, instead shooing her arm out of the panel. Anna turned back to her party, simultaneously shocked and not shocked to see _all_ of them with their weapons drawn. Even Maximus had managed to find a spare sword to grip between his teeth. Holding up her injured arm, in pain but seemingly unbroken, she gestured for them to re-sheath everything.

The sound of ropes and gears creaked behind her and she looked back to see the gates opening at last.

When there was only a horse’s worth of space, the gates stopped. A gnarled hand reached out, beckoning them to enter. While it wasn’t the grandest of welcomings, it’d do for her. Grabbing Maximus’s reins, Anna led the way into the town.

On the other side, the old gatekeeper gestured to a boy and commanded him to man the gate.

“I’ll be taking them to the steward’s castle,” he said.

Anna shivered as they made their way on foot through the city, leading their horses behind them. Of all the places she’d passed through, this one was definitely taking the worst of the storm’s blows. Despite the continuous snowfall, the city’s streets were packed with people. Her party had to cut themselves a path, the crowd shifting around them like sluggish water as they passed.

Small, makeshift fire pits dotted every sidewalk, with a dozen people or so clustered around each. No one had any proper winter gear, but had instead piled on every single article of clothing they owned. There seemed to be no discrimination: young couples, children, grandparents…

“Why aren’t they inside?” Anna asked.

“I told you before. Refugees.”

“What? That’s inhumane! This is a blizzard! Can’t your people share your homes?”

“Inhumane! Don’t you judge before you know half the facts! There’s half a country’s worth of people here and more inside where you can’t see them. We cram them all in when the sunsets, but no one can move once we do. They take it in turns. Rotate.”

“But…” she paused, taking in the entirety of her surroundings. Every where she looked there were more people, more fires… From somewhere in the distance Anna heard a baby cry out. She flinched. “Where did they come from? Even a snowed-in farm house has to be better than huddling for warmth like this in the streets.”

“They didn’t come from farm houses,” the gatekeeper said. “They’re island folk. Fled here from several weeks back and brought this storm of theirs with them. Fools we were to let them in.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s fool— Wait, what? You said they brought the storm with them?”

“They might as well have. It started there before it reached here.”

Anna saw Thomas visibly twitch out of the corner of her eye and gave him a quick nod of mutual understanding. The gatekeeper was now calling out in greeting to an old man waving at them from a nearby upper window. Some island refugees stared at their party; Anna didn’t know whether to blatantly stare back or ignore them.

“What island did these people come from?” Anna asked. Reminded of their unfinished conversation at the gate, she also added, “And you mentioned someone’s been talking about Arendelle?”

“Islands.”

“Excuse me?”

“Islands, not island. And they’re a bit odd if you ask me,” he whispered with a side-eye glance to all the half-starved people surrounding them. “Call themselves South Islanders, only their kingdom is north of here. Don't make no sense, does it?"

A queasy feeling started to wrap its way around her gut.

"The Southern Isles?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's the one.”

Anna hands jerked down hard on the reins, causing Maximus to let out a whinny of pain. He snorted in resentment as Anna ran her hand down his neck, whispering soft apologies.

The gatekeeper stopped walking and raised an eyebrow. "I take it you know these people like they know you?”

"I…" she trailed off, conscious of the many eyes and ears around her. "It's a long story."

The gatekeeper didn't continue walking at first, clearly waiting for more explanation, but when it was obvious that Anna wasn't about to give one, he slowly set off again.

"Are you alright, your highness?" Thomas whispered, jogging up alongside her.

After a brief hesitation, Anna nodded. "I'm fine," she said. "It's just… I might have found our first lead."

"That's wonderful! This is exactly what we've been searching for!"

"Not quite," she muttered.

Okay.

So Anna would admit that _just_ because the Southern Isles were involved and _just_ because this gatekeeper had said the storm originated there, that didn't _guarantee_ that a certain regicidal, ginger jerk was behind it all. He very well could be, but it wasn’t a foregone conclusion. Perhaps the Southern Isles were just the next domino in a line of besieged kingdoms.

But the coincidence was also too… well… coincidental to ignore.

"What about prisoners?" Anna asked the gatekeeper. "You know, convicted criminals and the like. Are they here too?"

The gatekeeper let out a noncommittal grunt. "They're the worse of the lot if you ask me. Had the majority of them put to work, but they still take more resources than they give back.”

"And the royal family?"

"Up in the castle where we're headed. They're the ones that have been talking about you," he said. "Or rather, your kingdom. What's so special about it anyway?"

Since the gatekeeper had no end to his criticism of the Southern Islanders for just bringing the storm with them, Anna wasn't it was the best idea to reveal that her older sister had once conjured a kingdom-wide blizzard of her very own.

"Oh,” she finally said. “I guess you could say we're pretty much the top-most experts there are on snow."

It was a lame answer, even to her own ears.

“Whatever,” the gatekeeper grumbled. “I don't care what you have up your sleeve, as long as it works.”

"I hope so too," Anna whispered to herself.

* * *

“Princess Anna of Arendelle,” the servant announced.

“Arendelle?” a man’s voice said. “Isn’t that—“

Anna swallowed apprehensively as she was ushered into a small but finely furnished room. Six men of varying ages were scattered about it, sitting, standing, lounging… Each one turned to survey her as she entered, and - despite some small variations in precise hue and shade - each shared the same red hair.

"Hello," Anna said simply with a nervous smile and a wave.

There was a silence as stares were exchanged, and then one of the older ones scoffed.

"Fat lot of good she is," he said. "It's the other one we need right now."

Anna’s jaw nearly dropped.

"Georg,” another one said. “No need to be rude about—“

"He does have a point—"

"—not her fault for being—"

"Lovely to make your acquaintance really," said a particularly handsome one, coming forward to shake her hand.

"Knock it off, Fritz," another groaned. "After Hans, I highly doubt—"

"—only being practical. Nothing rude about—"

"—she's wised up to such advances and—"

"—come all the way here! The least we can do is—"

"Umm…" Anna ventured.

"—really comparing me to _him_?! Of all the—”

"—don't trust a peasant to do a soldier's work, so what difference—"

"—shouldn't have acted that way then if you didn't want—"

"I think—“ she tried again.

"—bringing _war_ into this, now are we?"

“—and just because I flirt, doesn't mean I'm about to go _stabbing_ people in the—"

Anna took a deep breath.

“—yes, because if you haven't cared to notice, we might as well be in one with this damn—“

"Everyone be quiet!” she yelled. “ _Now!_ "

The six brothers turned as one. Anna held her chin up high over their shocked and slightly disoriented faces.

"Thank you," she said, letting out an exasperated breath. "Now that I have your attention, would someone please explain everything they know about how this storm came to the Southern Isles? One at a time!" she quickly added as two brothers started to simultaneously open their mouths. "Please."

All of the brothers glanced at each other, silent battles of power and domination and one-upmanship brewing behind their eyes, before they ceded beneath the one called Georg. He was somewhat portlier than the others and sported an impressive set of well-trimmed mutton chops. His nose was upturned like there was a permanent bad odor hanging underneath.

"There's nothing really to tell," he sniffed. "One morning it was as bright and sunny as any other summer's day, and the next there was frost on the ground. The day after that brought the first snow. When the seas began to pick up, we knew we had to flee. Life is different on an island, you know. Once the seas become too treacherous, there's no chance of aid and no chance to change your mind… So we took our chances and here we are."

"That's it?" Anna asked.

"That's it."

Anna bit her lip, pondering.

"Okay,” she said. “But what about where the storm came from? Do you think it started in the Southern Isles or did it spread from somewhere else? What about Hans? If he did something-"

"With all due respect, your highness, it's your sister with the powers, not our brother."

"I know, but-"

"You're welcome to talk to him if you honestly think he knows something," said another brother. A bushy mustache threatened to swallow the rest of his face. "But I highly doubt it. Before you protest, I know what he did to you and your sister - and for that we can never apologize enough, but he's been under lock and key for the past two years. I'm sure you remember our letter? Well, I can tell you, the first time he even set _foot_ outside his bedroom was during the evacuation."

A couple of the other brothers nodded noncommittally.

Anna was forced to internally admit there wasn't too much a person could do when confined to a single room… although she personally thought a full-on prison cell would've limited those possibilities all the better. Still, she wouldn't trust Hans even if Saint Nicholas himself put him on the nice list for the next fifteen years running.

"I think I _would_ like to talk to him," Anna said looking at one of the older brothers - who looked sympathetic - and attempting to ignore one of the pasty, well, middle-of-the-pack ones - who was currently rolling his eyes.

"Your waste of time,” Georg said. “Not ours."

"Hans is currently in one of the side rooms off the east wing," said one of the friendlier ones, a gangly young man with a crane-like nose. "I can escort you there if you wish."

"Thank you. That would be—“ Anna paused, realizing the word 'wonderful' didn't exactly apply in this circumstance, “—most appreciated."

Anna took his arm when he offered it and let him lead her from the room. She tried not to let her thoughts linger on the couple snorts of derision that followed them out.


	3. Act One: Part Three

The man was sitting on a small chair in the center of a sparsely furnished, depressingly grey tower cell. His back was towards them, and he made no effort to move as the door creaked open.

"Hans?"

"For the last _time,_ Leon!” he snapped, turning around. “I don't want to—“

The youngest prince of the Southern Isles froze as he looked past his brother to lock gazes with her.

Hans’ eyebrow lifted, his entire demeanor instantly cooling. "What is she doing here?" he asked.

Leon coughed. “She said she wants to help."

"By doing… what, exactly?"

“Ha. Georg said the same thing when he saw her.”

"Well, of course Georg would say the—“

"Ahem!" Anna said. She sensed the inter-brother chatter would be a reoccurring annoyance if she didn't speak up for herself more. "I am here, you know."

"Then talk," Hans said. "Anyways, Leon, I've been meaning to tell you. The draft in here right before dawn is simply dreadful. I’m starting to think that the wind is switching directions because it’s—“

"I was wondering what you know about this storm," Anna said. She suppressed the need to scream "shut up and listen to me!" like a petulant child.

Hans flicked her a disinterested glance.

"Other than the fact that's it's damn cold? Not much."

"Did you cause it?"

"That's a rather direct accusation."

"That's not an answer."

His lips twisted into a smirk as he took the time to hook a nearby stool with his toe, drag it over, and prop his boots up before replying, "I didn't cause this. Your sister's the one with the ice powers, not me."

Leon chuckled. "You know, Otto said the same—“

"Neither of us care which brother already said the same thing!" Anna snapped.

Her outburst seemed to surprise the two brothers. Anna took advantage of their splintered focus to finally retake control of the conversation.

"Now," she said. “Leon. I would like to talk to Hans. Alone. Could you please wait outside until we are done?"

Leon looked uneasy, glancing back and forth between his brother and the door. "Are you sure that's the best—“

“Yes. It is. Are you suggesting that I’ll be in any danger?”

"No, but—“

"Then what’s the problem?”

"Nothing! Just… Are you sure you aren't…"

Leon coughed.

"Aren't what?” Anna pushed.

"Umm…"

The unspoken elephant crammed into the tiny room was clearly "are you sure you aren't afraid of the man who left you to die and then actively tried to murder your sister so he could usurp your kingdom's throne?”, but Leon seemed desperate to avoid directly mentioning it at all cost.

Truth be told, Anna _was_ a little frightened. However, she also needed to talk to Hans, and he obviously wasn't taking her seriously while Leon was still there. (Not that it was guaranteed he'd take her seriously if Leon _wasn’t_ there, but it was worth a shot.)

"If you have nothing else to object to," Anna continued. “I’d appreciate it if you left us."

With one last stuttering, unfinished thought tumbling out of his mouth, Leon backed away. She watched the door swing shut behind him with a soft click.

"He did have a point, you know," came Hans' voice. "I could have a concealed weapon. And the human body does bleed out so quickly."

Anna took a deep breath and turned back to face him.

"Even so," she said. "You have nothing to gain by my death, except revenge. And if you do kill me, then what? Your family went easy on you after your attempted murders, but if you went through with an actual one? Even they wouldn’t be able to spare you from the wrath of my sister. Oh, I can see you wanting revenge, but not at that price."

Hans stared at her.

Silence crept over the two of them, and then he threw his head back and laughed. The low, rich sound echoed in the small, stone room, raising the hairs on the back of Anna's neck. She fought the urge to pat them back down again.

His laughter died into chuckles as he shook his head.

“I think that was the most intelligent thing I’ve ever heard you say. Did you prepare all that ahead of time or have you actually gotten somewhat smarter in our time apart? Never mind, don't answer that. I'm not really interested either way. But where are my manners? Come," he said. "Make yourself at home. I'd offer you some wine and refreshments, but you can see my current accommodations aren't quite up to… royal standards."

Anna scowled. “They'd be even lower if I had any say in it."

"Of course," he said with a smirk that made Anna want to punch him in the nose all over again. It’d been two years ago, and Anna felt like such a time gap warranted another.

“Let’s cut to the chase, Hans. What do you know about this blizzard?”

“Again with the blizzard.” He sighed. “I told you. I don’t know anything. I can tell you don’t believe me, but, with God as my witness, I’m just as surprised by all of this as you are.”

Anna bit her lip in frustration and resisted the urge to start pacing. She settled with crossing her arms and tapping her foot every now and again.

If he was telling the truth, then pushing the issue wasn’t going to go anywhere. And even if he did _know_ something, yelling the same question at him over and over again wasn’t going to convince him to start cooperating either.

“What do you want?” Anna suddenly asked.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve never done something unless you wanted something, so what is it this time?”

"Not following you. Do you really think I’m masterminding some sort of kingdom-wide hostage situation?” Hans rolled his eyes in exasperation. “How many times do I have to tell you before it penetrates your thick skull? I haven’t done anything.”

“I know, I know!” Anna paused. “Okay, well, you’re right; I still don’t believe you. But putting that aside for now, you’re telling me you’re perfectly happy as you are right now? Locked up in this room? You wouldn’t change a thing?”

“What are you getting at?"

"What I'm 'getting at' is that you always have a plan. And don't give me that 'I'm just as surprised as you' thing again," she added as he open his mouth for a whole new stream of protests. Anna took a deep breath. "You were equally surprised when my sister first revealed her powers, but that didn't stop you from instantly scheming new ways to take advantage of it.”

"You know, the word _'scheming'_ has this very inelegant—“

"Don't care. As I was saying, even if you go on and on about how you know nothing about this blizzard's origins, don't insult me by pretending that you _don't_ have some devious new plan brewing in that twisted little mind of yours."

Hans frowned. “I object to your use of 'little’.”

"Objection noted."

He didn’t immediately reply, choosing to stare, unmoving at Anna. Anna held her ground and stared back.

All things considered, it was a rather equal stare-off. Anna had never been much of a good starer, tending to burst out with laughter after holding eye contact too long. Even now, the corner of her mouth threatened to twitch. Hans seemed much more competent, although any skills he possessed were partly undermined by his current imprisonment.

Finally Hans sighed and pushed the stool that he'd been propping his boots on towards Anna.

"Fine,” he said. “You might want to take a seat though."

Anna glanced at the stool, then to his boots (which admittedly looked pretty clean), and then back to the stool.

"I think I'll stand,” she said flatly.

He shrugged, as though she was the strange one for rejecting his oh-so-courteous offer.

"Alright. So I might know something after all. Not about where this storm came from," he added before Anna could burst out in gleeful accusation. "But possibly how to end it."

“Your brothers didn’t say anything about this. I assume you haven't told them?”

"It was never relevant," he said with a wave of his hand.

"Not relevant?” Anna said in disbelief. She crossed her arms. “I’m not sure I can think of a situation where it'd be _more_ relevant.”

"Let me specify that. 'Never relevant' until now."

"Wait. What's so different about—“ she paused, a candle flickering to life in her brain. "Are you talking about me? What have I got to do with any of this?"

"Patience. I’m getting there. Now, I’m sure you know I've been under house arrest for the past two years. You can't possibly imagine what it's like." He paused. "Although… you did pathetically drone on and on about being trapped in your castle growing up, so perhaps you do. Still. Being locked up like I was, there was very little to entertain me outside of reading, so read I did."

"Are you trying to say that during your reading adventures you just _happened_ to come across some magic book with all the answers to… this?" Anna asked, sweeping her hand in a low arc.

"No, not at all. That kind of coincidence would be absurd.” Hans said with a dismissive shrug. He looked her dead in the eye and then slowly grinned. "I actively searched for one. Oh, don't give me that look,” he said before Anna say anything. “If all your carefully planned hopes and dreams had been tragically dashed because one neurotic girl flash-froze her kingdom, you'd become slightly obsessed about those kind of magical occurrences too."

Anna chose not to comment on his description of Elsa and tried to focus on what he’d just confessed.

"Okay, so you found some magical spell or something?”

"The location of a magical artifact."

"The location of a 'magical artifact.' Where do I come in?"

"The artifact is in a secret cave, protected by an enchantment."

"Not surprising."

"And the only way to break the enchantment is with the combined power of two separate royal bloodlines. Of course… I found all of this in a book of legends, so the cave might not even exist.”

“My cousin was born with magic hair that could heal people, and you already know the deal with my sister,” Anna said. “The fact that all this information supposedly comes from an old magic book is kind of at the bottom of my list of concerns right now.”

"Alright then.” Hans leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. “What are your concerns?"

"Well, for starters? You could be lying about this book. You could be lying about this cave. You could be lying about this supposed 'enchantment.' This could all be some evil plot to escape your brothers and then murder me while we're out in the wilderness."

"Then bring along an escort."

Somehow that didn’t assuage _any_ of her fears.

"You still haven't exactly said why I'm so special,” Anna said, backing up a step, trying to poke holes in any of his logic she could find. “I’m not the only royal girl in existence."

“No, you aren’t. But you _are_ the only one currently here. Imagine my disappointment when we arrived in this miserable city and I found out that the ‘ruler’ of this kingdom is a mere steward.” He scoffed. “Trust me, you would not have been my first pick for this mission either.”

“Too much bad blood between?”

“No. Just that, if I'm to risk my own neck, I'd rather work with someone far more capable."

Anna drew in a deep breath but refused to give him the satisfaction of her rage. She settled for pacing the small length of the room.

"Okay, then,” she said. “I might be needed, but you're not. Send one of your brothers. By your own words, it should work just as well with them, shouldn't it?"

"Oh, Anna. I thought you knew me better than that. You honestly expect me to remain locked up in here while one of them goes out and reaps all the glory?"

She stopped pacing and stared at him.

"Your people are dying."

"Everyone is dying. I'll die as well, winter or not, rotting away here, imprisoned. I need the chance to prove myself."

Anna kept staring him. How dare he have the audacity to smile. To sit and bargain as the wind howled outside. As the cold claimed more each day…

"Oh, you're proving yourself _just fine_ right now,” she spat.

Hans said nothing as Anna stomped out of room, yanking shut the ancient door behind her. Instead of creating a satisfying slam, the thick slab of solid oak lost speed halfway through and gently nudged to a stop, depriving her of even _that_ small pleasure.

"So… how did it go?" asked Leon cautiously, unfolding himself from where he'd been huddled against the opposite wall.

"How much has your brother read over the past two years?" Anna snapped.

"Wait, what?"

"You heard me. Your brother. Books. How many did he go through?"

"I don't know… Lots? I mean, he didn't really have much else to do. We gave him whole stacks. None of us really counted. Why?"

Anna took a deep breath. "He _says_ he's read about some magic artifact that can stop this weather."

"A magic whatnow?"

"I know. Crazy, right? But the thing is maybe he _is_ telling the truth. I don't want to trust him, but I don't really know what else to do at this point, and if he does…"

"Hmm…" Leon tapped his chin. "If he read it from our library,” he said. “He'd be the only one. Not many of us are big readers. Erich used to hang out there a lot, but no one knows where he is now. And Karl was always addicted to the place, but he looked down on anything that wasn’t hard science and anyone who wasn’t just as devoted to it as he was. Insufferable little git. Packed him off to Rome years ago and haven't seen him since."

"So you're saying Hans could be telling the truth."

"I'm saying there's no way to prove he isn’t, so… yes. He could be,” Leon said. “Though he could also just be trying to escape."

"That's what I thought!"

"But why did he suddenly tell _you_ this? Okay, so I guess none of us ever outright _asked_ him if he knew of some solution, but it seems absurdly petulant that he’d keep it all a secret until now."

"He said it's protected by some sort of enchantment. Needs people from two different royal families to break it or something. So yeah, that’s where I come in. Look," Anna said. "Why don't you go in there and talk to him, get the full details? I'll, I don't know, tell the rest of your brothers. Maybe the twelve of you can get him to spill what he knows and then one of you can come on this journey with me instead."

"So you're already decided?"

Anna shrugged.

"A magical blizzard strikes; I trek across three separate, clueless kingdoms only to end up here; I meet the one person with any prior experience _and_ involvement with this stuff; and he tells me he knows of a way to end it. What's left to decide?"

* * *

As fate would have it, Hans' brothers were useless at interrogation.

Anna suspected at least half hadn’t even tried, convinced that Hans was only telling tall tales in the hopes of getting attention. Several of the others apparently had better things to do, like the pair of twins whose idea of helping out had been questioning Hans for a grand total of two minutes before returning to their informal wood chopping duties.

She’d gotten a bit hopeful after managing to corner the current king of the Southern Isles, but while King Philipp believed his youngest brother was telling the truth about the book, he didn’t have any faith about the legend within. His red hair was greying around the temples and his shoulders sagged with the exhaustion of an entire kingdom. Anna tried bringing up trolls and magic and snowmen and flowers, but her arguments fell on deaf ears.

Of the ten older princes currently in the city, only two — Leon and an squat, no-frills brother named Otto — actually believed in Hans’ full plan and, unfortunately, they were the least skilled when it came to prying information. They uncovered that the cave was somewhere south, at least a five day’s ride from Stralshagen, and that was it.

No specific location.

No specific directions.

No nothing.

“We’d love to help further, but it seems like you’re going to be stuck with him,” Otto told Anna after dinner. He and Leon sat in the castle’s west drawing room as she paced the length of the fireplace.

Anna stopped her pacing.

“Wait, what? How can you just give up like that?" Anna demanded. “How can you tell me to just go with him? Hans would rather let his own people freeze to death than be excluded from his stupid, personal quest for glory! That’s… that’s worse than conniving! It’s downright heartless! He’s an egotistical, selfish… Argh!There’s no way I’m just standing aside and letting him get his way, and if that means not going at all—”

"Then you'd be no better than him," Otto finished.

“We’ll send our own soldiers to accompany you,” Leon said. “An entire platoon.”

“Don’t be silly, Leon. The girl doesn’t need _that_ many. Besides if this daft mission is to work at all, the swifter the party and less mouths to feed the better.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I already have some guards who’ve travelled with me since Corona.”

They were also guards that she could trust. While Anna didn’t doubt the loyalty and honor of the other Southern Islanders, if she was going to have to deal with a honey-laced tongue like Hans’, she wanted the deck stacked on her side as much as possible.

“Maybe it’s better this way,” Leon ventured. “Even if we’d gotten Hans to give up his information, who would’ve taken his place?”

Anna paused, confused. “One of you, of course.”

Otto laughed. “A man of my age and health? I’d expire before we reached the edge of this kingdom, let alone some cave tucked away into the mountains.”

“Okaaay, but what about you, Leon?” she said, turning to the other prince. “You seem strong and healthy. And you seemed up for it when I first mentioned one of you possibly taking Hans’ place.”

There was an awkward pause. Leon didn’t meet Anna’s gaze, diverting his attention towards the fireplace, and then at Otto, and then back to the fireplace.

“Yes, well. That was when… You see, there were ten of us, so I thought you’d be able to find _someone_. And before I knew it’d be such a long way away.”

As much as she hated not having any information, Anna was starting to wish that Hans had kept completely quiet. The lucrative distance had only served to increase his brothers’ doubts about the mission.

And cowardice, it seemed.

“I see,” Anna said icily.

She glanced from Leon to Otto, each prince struggling to maintain an air of good-natured helplessness.

“Well, if that’s all,” she continued. “I have a lot I need to do to get ready. The steward has invited me to stay the night. After that, I ride at dawn.”

“Princess!” Otto cried as Anna began to exit the room. She paused, twisting her head to let him know he had her attention. “I do hope you understand. We are on your side. Truly.”

“Oh,” she said. “I understand perfectly.”

* * *

On her way back to her chambers, Anna found herself wandering down the corridor that led past Hans’ room. She let her footsteps slow, treading softly as she approached the large, padlocked door.

She stopped completely as she drew even with it. She hesitated, wondering if it was even worth it, wondering if he’d even be able hear her through the thick door.

Then she knocked, the sound quiet yet distinctive.

“Hans?” she said tentatively. “Of all your brothers, I still hold that you are by far the worst. But…” She thought of the long, cold journey ahead of her. “That’s not really saying much.”

Even if he _had_ heard her, Anna walked away before he could have the chance to respond.


	4. Act One: Part Four

“Then man says, ‘Thank you, Doctor. But have you no medicine other than vodka?’”

Anna burst out laughing. The other soldiers in her guard chuckled around the flickering light of the campfire, caught awkwardly between not understanding the joke and not wanting to offend the largest, most-hulking member of their party.

It’d been two days since they’d left Stralshagen. A kind farmer had let them camp in his barn for the night, and they’d managed to make themselves rather cozy despite the snow outside.

Anna had hoped that by heading south the storm would’ve lightened up a bit, but they seemed to be stuck in the dead middle of it now no matter which direction they headed. The wind was slightly in their favor, pushing them forward instead of back, but that was about the extent of their luck.

Although speaking of luck…

Anna leaned back and stared up at the rafters of the barn. She had no idea how much longer these sort of luxuries would last. Hans’ map - or at least the vague directions he’d reluctantly divulged so far - would be leading them straight into the mountains soon.

The main object of their destination remained a mystery as well. Anna had tried to worm details out of the prince several times now with mild success. Apparently the “artifact” was some kind of glowing stone. The description seemed to satisfy the rest of her party for the time being, but not her.

He had to be hiding something still. She just… _felt_ it.

There was a metallic clink from the corner. Anna glanced over to see the “hero” of this whole delusional crusade, his manacles twisted due to the haughty, cross-armed position he was trying to maintain as he sulked under the not-so-careful watch of his current guard. It’d quickly become a rotating duty that the men in her party now bartered chores to avoid doing.

“Now, Princess,” came the deep, rumbly voice of Vladimir. “You tell joke.”

“Oh! Me?” Anna said, snapping back to attention. Everyone’s eyes were focused on her, and she blushed. “Umm… Haha, talk about being put on the spot! Okay, I’ve got one! So there’s this ice harvester and he’s the leader of his whole local ice harvesting operation thing. One of the new guys doesn’t have a hat, so his ears get super cold. I’m talking frostbite levels cold. So the main ice harvester gives the new guy the warmest hat he has, and for awhile he feels really happy about it. You know, doing this good deed for one of his fellow workers. But soon the harvester notices the new guy isn’t wearing his hat. He’s confused since the guy seems as cold as ever, so he asks him why he isn’t wearing it anymore. And the guy says—”

“Someone offered him lunch but he couldn’t hear it because of the hat,” Hans finished.

The whole party groaned. Anna shot Hans a dirty look. He returned it with a smirk and a shrug.

“What?” he said casually. “That’s what happens when you pick such a common, stale joke.”

“I swear,” muttered a grey-haired guard. Rogir. “When he’s not complaining, he’s inventing completely new ways to be irritating.”

“Well…” another guard, Caldwell, said as he glanced at the prince. “Since his mouth is the worst bit about him… we could always just gag him.” The young man kept his face as innocent as possible, like he hadn’t just suggested manhandling royalty.

All of them looked at each other before turning to Anna. She was the fellow royal and leader of the expedition.

To be quite honest, it _was_ tempting… but she personally liked to think she was above such petty—

“You wouldn’t dare,” Hans said.

—and his fate was sealed.

“Could someone hand me a strip of cloth?” Anna asked with a sweet smile.

Her request was granted instantaneously.

She waltzed over to Hans. He attempted to stand as she approached, scowling in all his indignant pride, but was quickly yanked back down by his current guard.

“You’ll regret this,” Hans spat out.

“That a threat? Coming from the man in chains?”

“You and I both know I won’t be in chains forever. Do this and I’ll swear I’ll…”

He trailed off as Anna leaned in close, gently cupping his chin and raising it until his eyes met her own. They stayed like that for several moments, Anna taking in every crystalline facet of his perfect face. Then she smiled.

“Oh, Hans,” she said, slamming the makeshift gag through his teeth and quickly knotting it in the back. “If only there was someone out there who cared.”

* * *

Life became so pleasant without Hans’ constant snide commentary that the gag stayed on for the rest of the night and most of the next morning.

As their horses plodded forward with Maximus in the lead, Anna occasionally glanced back to see the young prince glaring at her from the back of their train. She was always sure to return his muffled scowls with a cheerful smile.

Alas, all good things inevitably came to an end.

It was slightly past noon when they reached the last of their given directions and were forced to ask Hans for the next set. After a brief elimination game, Vladimir was chosen to remove the gag. Hans coughed and spluttered for a good half minute and then sulked in silence, refusing to talk.

It was all very good and dramatic, but Anna was too tired from the journey to deal with his spoiled antics. Snow continued to fall, and her fingers had grown numb beneath her woolen gloves long ago.

“You know, for someone obsessed with constantly being the ‘hero,’ you’re not even _close_ to acting heroic right now,” she said. “Even if you manage to help us bring summer back, we’re only going to tell everyone how much of a whining baby you were about it.”

“I have not been—!” He paused as he seemed to realize he was playing straight into Anna’s comments, his pride quickly overtaking whatever personal slights he might have felt.

Instead they were left with silence again. Anna crossed her arms, waiting, but - whether it was out of stubbornness or contemplation - Hans didn’t say a word.

Sitron pawed the snow beneath his rider, and Anna had to force herself from sighing in exasperation. Even imprisoned, the poor prince had been allowed to keep his precious horse-y worse-y. The more Anna continued to learn about Hans’ punishment over the past two years, the more she found it a joke.

Not that room confinement was a walk in the park, but the sentence definitely lost its edge when said room was in a palace. True, now that she was on first name terms with Hans’ brothers, Anna admitted that having to deal with them on a daily could _possibly_ count as mild torture... but still. Palace.

They hadn’t hadn’t even moved him out of his usual room! It wasn’t like the Southern Isles were lacking in prime dungeon real estate.

Okay.

Once again Anna had to grant the brothers some credit. Apparently Hans _had_ been imprisoned in their dungeons for a grand total of one month… but one month! God! She’d been grounded as a kid for longer than that!

If Elsa had known about the arrangement, she probably would’ve kept him in the Arendelle dungeons, politics and diplomatic immunity be damned.

“We need to go south southeast for another half league until we reach a lakeshore,” Hans finally said. “We’ll follow that lakeshore until we reach its western point, and then ride another three leagues until we reach the entrance of an abandoned mining tunnel. That should take us all the way through to the other side of the mountain ridge.”

Anna snorted at that.

“Yes?” he drawled.

“Nothing,” Anna said. “Just marveling at how a common miner’s tunnel managed to get itself included on an oh-so-ancient and secret map.”

Hans sniffed, drawing himself up. “I may have made some alterations based on the current state of the area, but-”

“Alterations? So you planned for all of this?”

“No! How many times I do I have to—?!” He paused again to collect himself. “I’ve been under house arrest,” he said. “For two years. I came across an ancient, secret map that led to an ancient, secret cave. I thought it was interesting. I don’t know who _wouldn’t_ think it was interesting. So I compared that map to other more recent maps. Why is that so hard to believe?!”

“Coming from you? Gee, I _wonder_.”

“Princess,” Thomas said from her right. “He’s not worth your frustration. We should move on.”

Despite the insult, Hans simply grinned and inclined his head in the direction he’d pointed out as though to say ‘after you.’

Anna tried to reclaim her cheerful facade but her smile quickly dissolved into a scowl. She spurred Maximus forward, and the rest of the party fell quickly inline behind her.

* * *

They found Hans’ tunnel sure as ever, but not even he knew how long it’d take them to pass through to the other side. Thomas and the others held a small debate over whether it was safer to camp at the entrance for the night or press on until Anna reminded them that time wasn’t exactly on their side.

Maximus had no difficulties entering the tunnel and the other horses seemed to be comfortable enough following him. They allowed themselves to be slowly led, one by one, into the far-reaching blackness. The guards lit a couple torches, but their light only penetrated so far. Anna couldn’t help but keep a continuous watch on Hans, sure that the prince would attempt to use the confined quarters and low visibility to his advantage. But to her relief — and small annoyance — he didn’t try a thing.

After several uneventful hours, their party reached the tunnel’s exit just in time to see the sun begin to set behind another distant ridge. With night fast approaching, they made an unanimous decision to set up camp inside the tunnel.

Not able to stand Hans’ presence for a minute longer, Anna volunteered to help collect firewood with another one of the younger guards as the rest hunted for dinner and got the camp ready.

The storm hadn’t managed to pass over the mountains yet, and Anna reveled in the feel of bare grass and crunching pine cones beneath her boots even if she couldn’t fully see them in the darkness.

By the time Vladimir returned with a fistful of dead rabbits, their party already had a decent sleeping area laid out and a more than decent fire roaring.

“It’ll be a fine thing when all this is over,” Rogir said, gesturing to the tunnel’s exit. They were quite a ways away from its mouth, but every now and again a stiff chill would force its way in, causing them to shudder as one.

“Yes,” said Thomas. “It definitely will.”

They ate their rabbits in silence.

Anna picked at a bit of gristle as the flames crackled. _When all this is over…_ The assumption of ‘when’ over ‘if’ weighed heavily on her mind. She suspected it weighed on the others too.

As much as Anna hated acknowledging it, as much as she’d try to wipe the thought from her memory later… Hans really was their only hope right now.

“What none of this answers though—” said Caldwell. “I mean, once we get the stone and bring back summer, we still won’t know where this storm came from. Or what it came from.”

“In Russia,” Vladimir rumbled. “Gods get angry. Curse land.”

Rogir shook his head. “You don’t need gods these days to get a curse.”

“But why curse every kingdom?” Caldwell asked. “And if some evil sorceror is behind it, why haven’t theycome forth with any demands. There’s no reason. My bet’s on some freak astrological occurrence. Planets crossing and all that.”

“I still think it’s a person. If the Princess Rapunzel and Queen Elsa could have magical powers, then who’s to say that others can’t?”

Something itched at the back of Anna’s mind, tugging on some disconcerting feeling and wisp of a memory. She tried to shake it, but it only grew stronger.

“What do you think it is?” Anna said, abruptly turning to Hans.

It took him awhile to realize that she was talking to him.

“Me?” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to speak.”

Anna knew he was mocking her, but she played along. “I’m granting you permission, just this once.”

“My lady honors me,” he said, dipping his head in an informal bow. “What can I say though? I know just as little as all of you.”

“So you’ve said. But that’s why we’re all guessing.” She scrunched her nose. “Besides, what makes you so sure that this stone of yours will fix everything if you have no idea what’s causing the storm?”

“I never said I was sure it world.”

“And yet here you are risking your life with the rest of us.”

He shrugged. “Everyone’s life is at risk. If anything, it’s probably safer here with you than back in Stralshagen where the storm is the strongest.”

“Princess Anna…” Thomas said. “It’s no use to—”

“Not now,” Anna said.

He was going to tell her to ignore the prince, to drop it. But Anna didn’t want to drop it. Pretending like Hans’ actually had someone else’s best interests at heart and that everything would turn out fine if they just followed him… Hans had been keeping information from them this whole trip. Was continuing to keep information from them.

And when that put everyone’s life at risk, pretending wasn’t good enough for her.

“Well,” Anna said with a sniff. “I don’t know if I want to go any further if our guide is really so _clueless_ about our destination.”

“I never said I was clueless,” Hans muttered.

“Um, yeah. You did.”

“Just because I choose to keep my knowledge to myself, doesn’t mean that I don’t possess it.”

“Says a person with no knowledge to begin with.”

Hans seemed to struggle for some sort of comeback before falling into a grumbling silence.

Anna fought back a smug grin. She seemed to be getting better at roping the prince into unwinnable arguments.

“Fine,” he said, his manacles rattling slightly as he readjusted himself. “The stone supposedly nullifies all effects of magic. That’s why I think it will be effective at stopping the storm.”

“All effects of…” Anna mind slowly kicked into gear. “You wanted to use this stone on my sister, didn’t you!” she exclaimed. She let out a noise of disgust. “ _That’s_ why you spent so much time researching those books and memorizing all these directions in your head!”

“I can’t deny that the thought never crossed my mind,” he said with an innocent smirk. “But of course that’s all irrelevant now.”

“Like _hell_ it isn’t! I—“

Anna paused mid-rant as Thomas tapped her on the shoulder. He looked mildly contrite for interrupting a member of the royal family, but resolute in his decision in having done so.

“Princess,” he whispered. “A word in private. Please.”

Anna shot Hans a glare. His smirk had taken a far more devilish twist, and she bit back a foul-mouthed retort that would have made Eugene grin and Rapunzel blush.

“Fine,” she muttered reluctantly.

She followed Thomas deeper into the tunnel. They remained within sight of the main group and campfire but were out of earshot.

“The man is taunting you. Saying these things only so you upset yourself.”

“Oh. You _think_?”

“Then surely you should know better to engage him.”

“You think I want to? I don’t have a choice! He holds all the information! I don’t see anyone _else_ trying to pry it out of him. I mean, I’ve gathered that you’re all fine going into this completely blind, but come on! You just heard what he said about the true effects of this stone! Do you have any idea what kind of trouble he could cause with that?!”

“I understand your concern, Princess,” Thomas said. “But do remember that there are six of us and one of him. On top of that, he is currently chained and will continue to be so for the rest of our mission. We are more than capable of handling him.”

“I know. I know…”

Anna glanced at Hans. Thomas was right; he was completely outnumbered and completely out-armed. By any account he should’ve been harmless… and yet there was an unsettling trepidation that wouldn’t shake away from her gut.

Maybe she was being paranoid.

Maybe there’d been something wrong with that rabbit meat.

“Just promise me that you won’t let your hate overrule your better judgement,” Thomas said. “He’ll find a way to use your own emotions against you.”

The guard’s words struck a nasty chord within her as memories long past and buried bubbling up: the two of them sliding, giggling and breathless, down the wooden polished length of the north hall; the feel of his arms as he held her and twirled her around a floor of dancers; the pounding of her heart blocking out all other sounds as he knelt before her on one knee, gazing up at her, his face pure and earnest and… devious and plotting and—!

Anna fought back a primal scream and banished the memories straight back to the nastier little pit of her mind. They’d been the worse right after it’d all happened, getting slowly easier to forget as the months and years started to pass. Even so, there were nights where she woke up wanting to rip apart her pillows.

Maybe when she returned home she’d finally convince Kristoff’s adopted family to get rid of those memories for good. They didn’t like using their powers when it wasn’t necessary, but she make them see the reason in this.

Anna looked over at where Hans was currently sitting and shuddered.

“Believe me,” she said to Thomas. “He will never use me like that again.”

* * *

The morning came all too soon.

Anna protested and stretched and did everything possible to catch just a couple more seconds of blessed darkness, and then she was up. Even with their party moving as lightly and swiftly as possible, there were still chores to be done: mats and tarps to put away, essentials to account for. At least they seemed to be getting a little faster at it every day.

And then there was—

“Are you lot still not ready? The storm’s going to catch right back up to us at this rate.”

Hans’ voice echoed against the sides of the tunnel, grating against the back of Anna’s skin.

He was just standing near the tunnel’s mouth, next to Sitron and one of the other half-loaded horses. He was just standing there. Complaining. As the rest of them did all the work.

It was the last straw.

Maximus snorted beside her, fire in his eyes. Anna patted him on the muzzle.

“Don’t worry,” she said, soothing him. “I got this.”

She marched over to Hans, Thomas’ earlier warning be damned. She put her hands on her hips and glared straight up at him. He stared back cooly.

“Since you’re not helping us pack,” she said matter-of-factly. “You have no right to complain.”

“Your problem. Not mine,” he said, waving his manacled wrists in her face.

“Like we would really unchain you for that.”

“Your problem,” he said again. “Not mine.”

“You know what?! I have had it up to _here_ with you!” Anna yelled, jabbing at a random point above her head in emphasis. “All you’ve done since you’ve come on this mission is complain. Complain. Complain! _Complain!_ Tell me this. Does this cave of your require the royal blood to be fresh?! Because I’m seriously thinking about slicing open a vein of yours and letting you sit here in this cave while the rest of us press on and actually get stuff done! You want to know _why_ two of your brothers pretended that you didn’t exist for years and years? Well, I can tell you why and it’s certainly not a case of poor little Hans versus the big, bad—”

Anna paused.

Had she just felt…?

“Run out of steam?” Hans asked.

“Ssh!” she hissed, cutting him off with a wave of her hands.

She focused. Perhaps it’d only been her imagination.

Then she felt them again. Faint vibrations.

Her eyes widened a split second before the tunnel started to shake. From all around came the grinding sound of rocks being dislodged. Anna barely had time to gasp, let alone scream before the roof caved in above her.


	5. Act One: Part Five

Anna coughed as the cave filled with blindingly thick dust clouds. Every couple of seconds she heard stray pebbles clatter against the ground. As she slowly regained her senses, she could make out the sound of another man — Hans? — coughing nearby.

"What- what the hell was that?!" Anna managed to choke out.

"Earthquake. Obviously."

Yep. Definitely Hans.

" _Obviously_ ," she said. As the dust started to clear, a shape emerged to her right, fuzzy at first, but quickly gaining the telltale features of the red-haired prince. “What I meant was, where did it come from?”

"The entire kingdom… no, the entire _continent_ has had all its normal weather patterns turned on their heads and you're wondering why nature itself is starting to buck and shake a little?”

Anna glared at him but didn't argue. If she thought of the earth as a huge scale, his reasoning made sense. Pile a bunch of snow onto one end, and in time the whole thing would flip over.

The quicker they got to Hans' magic cave the better.

And then she realized…

"Vladimir? Thomas?” Anna spun around, desperately hoping for a glimpse of either man. From any of her men. All that greeted her was a large wall of collapsed stone.

"It looks like they got trapped on the other side," Hans said, walking up beside her and casually stroking his chin.

Anna turned on the prince. "Don't you say that! Don't you dare say that!"

"What? The truth?"

"No! I mean—“ Her eyes lost some of their fire as she turned back to the wall. Her stomach clenched in fear as her mind raced through the worst possibilities. "Oh God,” she whispered. “What if it's completely collapsed on the other side? What if they're hurt? What if they're dead?"

Anna rushed over to the nearest stone, curled her fingers underneath it, and began to heave. It didn't budge.

"We have to help them!"

"Anna…"

"They could be trapped!"

"Anna, even if they do need our help, there's nothing we can do."

"Shut up. I don't want to hear your voice right now!”

"Anna!"

Anna felt herself being yanked back as Hans grabbed a fistful of her clothes. With Hans' wrists still in shackles, the move caught them both off-guard and they fell to the floor. They sat a foot apart, the only sound in the tunnel their labored breathing.

"Even if you move one stone, there are still hundreds of others,” he said. “And the more you remove, the more unstable you make it. Remove enough and the whole thing will collapse again."

"But—“

"They're capable men. Proven soldiers and survivalists. If they are alive, they'll find a way to get out of this."

"But what if they're hurt?"

"If they're hurt, what could you possibly do that would help them?”

"I can get to them. We can rescue them."

"And then what?"

She blinked at him. “What… What do you mean?"

“Say you miraculously manage to get past this wall without it caving in again,” Hans said, sweeping his hand at the stone barrier. “They're hurt. They can't walk. They can't move. Some of them are unconscious. What do you plan to do?"

"I…"

Anna bit her lip.

It was a full day’s travel back to the last house they’d seen. If the horses were okay, maybe she'd be able to load them up and lead them all to safety. Of course, that was assuming they were all well enough to be moved.

And then what? Leave them at some poor farmer's house with practically no medical supplies and barely enough food to get by? She and Hans and whoever was left would have to triple back?

And that was assuming the horses were okay. If one of the beasts had broken a leg… They'd be stuck here in this cave, the storm only getting worse and worse…

"I don't know," Anna said.

She half-expected Hans to start gloating at her well-intentioned naiveté, but for once he had the decency to remain silent.

"But I can't just walk away either,” she said defiantly.

Hans groaned.

"Fine," he said, awkwardly pushing himself up to his feet. "You stay here. Move all the rocks you want. Get crushed. I'm moving to safety.” He squinted at the cave's mouth, a silhouette of white against the darkness. "I think our horses ran off over there. Might as well catch them before we end up in an even worse situation."

Anna settled for another glare as he left, then turned her attention back to the cave in. As much as she kept hating to admit it, Hans had a point. The wall was a jumbled mess. Many of its stones were balanced precariously atop one another; one wrong tug on the wrong rock, and the whole thing could come tumbling down.

She reached for the same stone from earlier, but doubt had already crept its way into her chest. The tugs she gave were nowhere near her full strength. After about a minute of “work” she slumped down, resting her back against it.

Then an idea struck.

“Hey!” Anna yelled, turning to directly face the wall. “Can anyone hear me! Are you all okay?! Is anyone okay?!”

She waited. Five seconds… then ten. Anna slowly counted to a full minute, heart pounding fast against her ears, then repeated her calls.

No response.

Goddammit all to... Anna grit her teeth as she slammed her fists onto the dusty cavern floor.

Tears welled in her eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She wasn’t supposed to have to choose. To have to walk away from her companions for the sake of some “greater good.”

But what could she possibly accomplish by staying?

Anna remained like that for a good portion of an hour, fingers clutching the bottom of her cloak, trying not to burst into full on hysterics, yelling at the top of her lungs every few minutes in the hope of catching _some_ sort of response. None of it made any difference.

At last, she finally willed her legs to stand and, not bearing to look back, trudged out of the cavern and into the late morning sun.

“Ah, there you are,” came the sound of Hans’ voice. Anna blinked, her eyes adjusting to the sharp brightness. “I was starting to get worried. I have the horses. Both unharmed as far as I’ve been able to tell. Tried to sort through the packs and get a new inventory, but it’s hard enough keeping a hold of their reins in these cuffs let alone trying to navigate straps and clasps and God knows what else.”

Anna didn’t know if he was trying to bait her or not. Frankly, she didn’t have the strength to care anymore. She glanced around the small clearing where forest met mountainside.

Something was slightly off, some detail that wasn’t quite sitting right in her brain. She continued to study her surrounding, confused, before she realized that it was first time in over a week that she’d seen actual grass on the ground. She’d kind of seen it the night before, but it was nowhere as _green_ as it was now.

At least it’d be somewhat easier to travel on this side of the mountains.She had to stay positive and that was one thing she could cling to, she guessed.Even so, if the storm had covered half a dozen kingdoms, it’d only be a matter of time before it pushed its way over the peaks.

They had to keep moving.

Anna made her way over to her new horse, hoping that Maximus was alright on the other side, and started rummaging through its supplies.

“No tent,” she said. “Though we have two tarpaulins that should help keep the worse out. Spark rocks and a couple flasks, so we’re good on water. Some extra clothes. A bit of jerky.” Anna frowned. Vladimir, in addition to being the largest man, had the largest horse, so he’d been carrying the most amount of food. She’d deal with that as it came. “Rope, ice axe, grappettes… Though I don’t think those will be very useful. They look way too big for my shoes, not to mention all the powder will be super fresh. I assume you’ve got the same stuff packed in yours?”

“More or less.”

All things considered, it could’ve been a lot worse. They had their essentials. There was also a weird coil of wire and a small dagger at the bottom of the pack. She’d keep those buckled and hidden away from Hans. Maybe stick the dagger in her belt when he wasn’t looking.

Shelter and food would be the biggest challenges, but there were still animals around she could maybe hunt. Perhaps… Kristoff had been good at trapping things, but he’d never really shown her how.

Anna took a deep breath.

“Can you get on?” she said, glancing at Hans’ handcuffs.

“Now and every other day,” he said, swinging up into Sitron with impossible ease.

She pursed her lips in jealously. With a slight bounce to prep herself, Anna hopped onto her own mount. Reins in hand, she looked at Hans.

“Where to now?” she asked, voice level and to the point.

“We follow this valley out and then continue south.” Hans flashed her his most debonair smile. “Will you take the lead or shall I?”

“You,” Anna said. “I’m keeping your back firmly where I can see it.”

“How many times must I keep telling you?” he said with a sigh. “I have absolutely nothing to gain by murdering you this time.”

She couldn’t help the shudder that ran down her spine. Murder. He made it sound so… blasé.

Not to mention the way he’d said ‘this time.’

“Back where I can see it,” Anna repeated through gritted teeth.

As Hans’ kicked his horse forward, Anna allowed herself one last glance at the cave entrance; it was her last chance to turn back. Her gaze shifted up towards the mountain peaks. A wispy tinge of grey was just beginning to curl over them.

She took a deep breath and followed after Hans.

* * *

“I’m thirsty.”

“Then drink some water.”

“I can’t.”

From up ahead, Anna heard the clanking of Hans’ cuffs. He was shaking them to help get his obvious point across.

Anna groaned.

“You know,” he said. “If you just removed them, I could—“

“No,” she said sharply. “Also make your next lie a better one. I’ve already seen you drink countless times with those on. You didn’t seem to have a problem then.”

“But they feel so much heavier now…”

“You were in the navy once, right?” Anna said irritably. “I’m sure you went thirsty plenty of times then. Deal with it.”

“But, Anna. I haven’t had a sip all day. I’ll practically die of thirst. Why… any second now I might even fall off my horse.”

“Yeah right,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Like that will happ—Hans!”

Anna nearly screamed as Hans suddenly pitched sideways off Sitron. She yanked on her reins, causing her own mare to rear back. Once she steadied it, she jumped off and ran over to him.

As she approached, Hans sat up.

He was completely uninjured.

Anna stared at him in shock, and then her face darkened into a scowl. Of course. Royalty. Horse lessons. They both knew how to take a fall.

“You know,” Hans said with a wretched smile. “It’s times like these that pocket mirrors really should be a traveling essential. I swear, the look on your face—“

He was interrupted by Anna throwing half a skin of water into his face.

“Still thirsty?”

He blinked at her, bangs dripping.

“You shouldn’t have wasted that,” he eventually said, his voice flat.

“Oh… it wasn’t a waste,” Anna said. She dragged him up by his collar and pushed him towards his horse.

He stumbled backwards, staring at her in disgust. It was a shared feeling. She crossed her arms and stared back at him in equal revulsion.

Hans was the one to finally break eye contact. He turned away from her with an unintelligible grumble and mounted Sitron again.

They continued on for several more hours in silence. No requests for water. No directions. Nothing.

It was peaceful not having to listen to him, but also of unsettling. Without the other members of her party, Anna had no one to talk to. Her horse trotted on and she was left alone with her thoughts. Normally she could handle that, having lots of practice growing up, but all her current thoughts were increasingly depressing and morbid ones.

Anna couldn’t help but worry about her guards. Vladimir, Thomas, Caldwell, Rogir… She prayed that they were okay and that the only reason she hadn’t gotten a response to her yelling was the thickness of the stone wall.

What if they were injured though? What if they were dying? She’d sacrificed them to keep going, but what if she got to Hans’ cave and nothing was there? Would they have died for nothing? What would she do then? She didn’t really have any other backup plans. How many people would die because she screwed up? How many would die because she decided to trust a man that shouldn’t have ever been trusted?

How many had already died?

Her head was pounding and she was feeling somewhat sick from the stress of it all by the time Hans finally spoke.

“It’s getting late,” she heard him say. “We should find a place and start setting up camp.”

“No. We don’t have time.”

Sitron stopped and her mare nearly bumped into him.

“What!?” Anna spat.

“I knew you were stupid, but I never knew just how stupid,” Hans said turning on her. “Are you _trying_ to get both of us killed?”

“What are you—“

“First you toss out half our water, and then you plan to push both of us through the night when neither of us know the terrain. And that’s not even taking into account our horses…”

“ _First_ ,” Anna said. “I only tossed out half of _your_ half of the water, so it was really only a quarter.

“Second, if you’d ever lived in the mountains, you’d know that there are streams all over the damn place. Honestly I’m shocked that we haven’t had to cross ten of them already.

“Third, even without the streams, if you’d ever lived somewhere with snow, you’d know that once that blizzard catches up with us, lack of water is _not_ going to be an issue.

“And last, once that blizzard does catch up with us, our horses are going to get a lot more exhausted pushing through it versus a couple extra hours now. True, it’s chilly, but it’s still summer. We still have daylight ahead of us. We keep going.”

“You seem to forget, _Princess,_ that this is going to be our first night setting up camp without an entourage of strong-armed men to do all the actual work.”

“Excuse you. I did plenty of work.”

Hans rolled his eyes. “Oh, please,” he said. “You collected the firewood.”

She puffed up in indignation before quickly deflating..

“Okay, yes,” Anna said reluctantly. “But only because they didn’t want me doing anything else.” His annoying smirk told her she’d phrased that somewhat wrong. Like she’d admitted to being a dangerous klutz. “Because I’m a princess and that was their way of respecting that,” she corrected. “Not because I didn’t know how to do anything. _God!_ And you’re one to talk. Compared to you, I’m probably a wilderness survival expert.”

“A wilderness expert. Really.” He raised an eyebrow. “This coming from a princess who spent ninety-nine percent of her life shut away in a castle.”

Anna shrugged, the barb not stinging nearly as much as it would’ve several days ago. “Date a mountain man and you pick up a few tricks.”

Hans grimaced. “And here I’d hoped _those_ rumors had been exaggerated.”

“Why?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow. Something about his blatant displeasure intrigued her. “Wishing you still had a shot?”

“No,” he said simply. “It’s just that the thought of royal and common blood intermingling like rain into a sewage gutter disgusts me.”

Anna’s nose flared. She physically bit her tongue to keep from lashing out.

He was definitely baiting her. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her rage, no matter how justified she be in whatever curses she hurled at him.

“I’m continuing on and that’s final,” Anna said, kicking her horse forward. “Feel free to stay and set up camp here if you like. I’m sure you’ll manage just fine with those shackles.”

* * *

They made camp a few hours later.

Hans was no help whatsoever. Granted, his shackles prevented him from doing most tasks, but right then Anna needed to hold onto anything that kept her sane and if that just so happened to be blaming Hans for everything currently wrong and annoying with her life, then so be it.

Yes. As long as he kept his pretty mouth closed and there were no more earthquakes, she’d be grateful dammit.

Since they didn’t have a tent, Anna used her rudimentary mountaineering skills to create the best make-shift shelter she could. In addition to the two canvas tarps, they had a single sleeping roll. After a quick search, Anna found a tree with some good low branches. She slung one of the tarps over a branch and spread the other on the ground.

She and Hans would have to share the shabby structure — she made a small gagging sound at the thought — but she’d be keeping the sleeping pad all to herself. It helped that she’d found it in her mare’s pack; it’d give her the logical upper-hand if Hans tried to argue for it later.

She gathered some sticks and loose rocks as Hans merely sat and watched next to Sitron. If he smiled or leered or glared or yawned or whatever-elsed at her, she ignored it. Soon enough she had a fire pit sent up and enough kindling to last them several hours.

Anna surveyed it with a smile, congratulating herself on a job well done.

Then her stomach growled.

Her smile vanished. She’d been nibbling on jerky to keep the worst of her hunger away, but she suddenly remembered it’d been over twenty-four hours since her last full meal.

Honestly, Anna would’ve been fine to go the rest of the trip on just jerky, but they didn’t have nearly enough to last. She rummaged through the mare’s pack, desperately trying to find anything she could use to hunt with. Kristoff had taught her a lot about the traveling aspects of mountaineering but almost nothing about hunting. Anna knew how to use a bow… kind of, but that was about it. And the pack was all out of bows and arrows.

She knew there were probably all sorts of traps she could set, but she didn’t know what any of them looked like, let alone how to set them. Maybe it _would_ have to be jerky from here on out after all.

Perhaps if she rationed it really, _really_ well…

“Hey,” Hans said.

She ignored him, trying to think of some other way they could get more food.

“Don’t pretend like you can’t hear me. I know you can.”

Anna reluctantly spun to face Hans.

“What,” she said.

“I need you to unshackle me.”

“Not this again,” Anna said with a sigh of exasperation. “No.”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to help me. Never realized how forward you were.”

“What are you on about this time?”

“A man has his needs. Well… everyone does really.”

“Huh?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you? Of course I do.” He shrugged. “And I’m still thirsty by the way, which is amazing on its own. Do you know just how thirsty a person can be while really needing to piss because—“

“Ugh! No! Gross!” Anna shouted, blocking his crassness from her mind. “And the answer is still no! Your wrists are shackled in front of you, not behind you. Blegh! I’m sure you can manage… whatever you need on your own.”

Anna continued to make disgusted noises as Hans wandered off into the trees to… well, to do his ‘ _business_.’ She shuddered. To say it so coarsely… how had she ever mistaken him for a proper gentleman?

And why had he brought it up? Ugh. Like the bit with the water earlier, he knew he could manage perfectly well on his own.

No, she knew why. He was taunting her. Attempting to throw her off balance. Exploring her weaknesses by hurling barbed insults at every possible crack he could find.

Anna didn’t want to be waiting for Hans in the exact same spot when he came back, so she took some random gear from the pack and headed off in the opposite direction. Maybe if she wandered around a bit, everything would magically make sense and she’d be able to set up some successful traps.

No enlightenment came.

Defeated, she briefly took care of her own personal matters and then returned to camp. Hans was lounging next to the fire, his back resting against Sitron who sat behind him. He looked at the gear Anna had failed to do anything with.

“And just what were you planning on doing with that?” he asked smugly.

“Shut up.”

She strode over to the main pack and began to shove the useless junk back inside, avoiding Hans’ eyes as she did so.

“Were you trying to make a trap? I’m not half bad, you know. I could get us some fresh dinner if you unshackled me.”

“It wasn’t amusing the first time you asked me. It’s not amusing now. We never took any chances when there were six of us, and I’m sure not taking any now that it’s just me. Besides,” she said, finishing the repacking and grabbing out the small bag of jerky. “Vladimir was the one who had the keys.”

“Oh.”

It was the first sincere word he’d said all trip.

Anna sat down across from him, nibbling on a piece of jerky as she studied him. Her eyes flicked to the shackles. She probably could’ve picked the lock, but Hans didn’t know that.

That and it gave her some extra time to test a theory.

Hans seemed to interact with other people like they were all these weird, easily-tricked guardians of various opportunity doors. If he thought he had the slightest shot of squeezing through one, then he’d needle and cajole and manipulate his way to victory. But the second the door closed and the guardian was rendered pointless, he’d drop the charade.

Instantaneously.

There was a strange logic to it. _A strange, inhuman logic,_ she thought as her teeth tore their way through a rather thick tendon.

“Want some?” she asked, holding up the bag.

“I’d rather have some water first.”

“Whatever.” She tossed his half-empty waterskin over to him. He caught it with an awkward jangle of his chains. “Don’t drink it all at once. I’m not refilling them until mine’s empty.”

If he’d listened to her, he didn’t respond. Anna went back to her jerky. There had to be a way to ration it. Perhaps if she kept most of the meat for herself and half-starved Hans…

She dimly registered that he was saying something.

“What?” she asked.

“I’ll take some of that jerky now,” he said pointing at her bag.

Anna briefly considered refusing out of petty spite before starting to hand it over. Then she paused, a sudden thought occurring. She wrinkled her nose.

“Wash your hands first,” she said, gesturing her head in the direction of the nearby stream.

Hans grumbled about the alpine water freezing the iron around his wrists but mercifully obeyed. For a few blissful minutes she was left alone with only the crackle of the fire to fill the silence. Unfortunately, Hans returned all too soon, and Anna practically threw the jerky bag at his head when he asked for it a second time.

“This won’t last us the rest of the journey,” he said.

Prince Obvious.

“Shut up and eat.”

“Ignoring the problem won’t give us more food.”

“I know! I’m thinking about it! Okay?! I’ll… think of something.” She watched as he started to open his mouth and preemptively cut him off, “And don’t you dare ask me to take your cuffs off again. I told you I’m sick and tired of it, so ask me one more time and I swear I’ll punch you in the face!”

She took a quick pause for breath. Hans looked at her, slightly concerned, but also slightly haughty, like he prided himself in having pushed her to her limits.

“I wasn’t,” he said. “Like you said. You don’t have the keys.”

Anna moaned in frustration, all the stress that’d been building in her head tumbling out in one giant breath. She curled her knees against herself and buried her face in them.

She didn’t know if she could keep doing this. Not for another… how many days was it? They’d left Stralshagen about four days ago. If Hans wasn’t lying about the directions, it’d take them at least another day, maybe two, to reach the cave. And then assuming everything actually went according to plan, they still had to get back.

Meanwhile, her sole companion was a git. A murderous git that only ever opened his mouth to insult and annoy and manipulate the people around him.

She was sick of it. Sick of his voice when he said some sarcastic or nasty comment. Sick of the silence when he didn’t.

“Just talk to me,” she mumbled from her knees.

“What?”

“Talk to me,” she repeated, lifting her head. “About something. Anything. Just let us have an actual _conversation_.”

“I have been. But you don’t seem to approve of anything I have to say.”

“Stop!” Anna said. “Enough, okay? Enough. You know exactly what you’ve been doing. Conversation isn’t insults and mental games. It’s… it’s…” She groaned. “I shouldn’t have to tell you what it is.”

Anna stared at the fire.

It was stupid to think that he’d ever—

“Fine,” Hans said, shifting against Sitron. “What do you want to talk about?”

She blinked.

He was watching her intently and seemed to be waiting for her to pick the topic.

It had to be another trick. A ploy to get her to lower her guard… Hans would never agree to just _talk_.

Anna rubbed her temples.

“Tell me about your brothers,” she finally said.

Hans raised an eyebrow. “Why would you want to hear about them?” he asked, the disdain in his voice clearly evident.

“Well,” she said. “I still don’t know all that much about them. And now that I’ve actually met a couple, I have some faces to go with the stories.”

He stared at her. For a second, Anna thought he was going to propose a different topic, but then he sighed.

“Alright,” he said. “I have twelve brothers, which — if you ask me — is twelve too many. Philipp is the oldest and the king, but he never married, so really Franz’s kids are the ones looking to inherit—“

Anna frowned. She couldn’t remember anyone named Franz.

“Which ones did I meet?” she asked.

“How the hell am I supposed to know that?” Hans asked.

“Oh, right. Well, there’s Leon,” Anna said brightly. “He’s the nice one that took me to your cell.”

“Ugh, nice? Really?”

“Yes, really. Well… comparatively nice,” she amended, thinking of the way he’d chickened out from the journey.

Hans snorted. “He tries too hard.”

“What. As opposed to you?”

“Touché. Who else then? Go on.”

“Umm… there was this really nasty one,” she said, taking note of the way Hans smiled in response. “I forget his name. He had these enormous muttonchops.”

“Ah, Georg.”

“Yep! That was him. Ooh… I could tell he hated me as soon as I walked in. The entire time I was there it was ‘oh, what’s she doing here?’,” Anna said, lowering her voice in a gruff imitation. “‘An Arendelle princess? Oh. She’s the useless Arendelle princess. Where’s her sister? Her sister’s the one who can help us.’ Well… Elsa is queen now, not a princess, but you know what I mean.”

“Hmm…”

Anna bit her lip. “You said three of them pretended you were invisible when you were little?”

“You remember that?” Hans shook his head. “Well, Georg was one of them. The one who started it actually. Manfried followed him because God help us all if he ever developed a spine. And I then guess Fritz joined in because he thought it was funny.”

Fritz… she vaguely remembered that name, but not much else. There’d just been too many of them.

“Do have a brother you at least _sort of_ got along with?”

“I guess,” he said. He glanced up at the dark pine needles, seemingly pondering the question. “Erich was always the most down to earth. We got along decently well, I suppose. He left the islands when I was ten. He still visits for Christmas every couple of years, but that’s it.”

“Oh, why did he leave?”

Hans raised an eyebrow at her like she’d just asked why deer ate grass. “After everything you’ve learned about my family, you really have to ask?”

Anna shrugged. “You’ve told a lot of lies. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve learned anything about you or your family at all.”

“True,” he said. “But you’re still listening to me. _That’s_ not very good judgement.”

“I think judgement’s a bit relative when I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“Also true. What can I say? Twelve brothers… Erich felt the same pressures I did. Wanted to get away from it. Explore the world. Find his own path in life.”

“Sounds like the brown sheep to your black one.”

“Oh, Anna,” he said, clutching his heart with both his hands in fake pain. “Your words wound me.”

Anna felt a smile creeping up on her face and instantly squashed it back down. Hans was still a jerk. Even if he _was_ starting to lift her spirits again, she refused give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

“But you’re right about our similarities,” he continued. “As soon as I got old enough, I escaped in my own way. Volunteered to be our family’s ambassador for a duke’s birthday. Volunteered for this one peace treaty’s anniversary ceremony after that. Kept volunteering until everyone started assuming I’d be the one to go to everything.”

“And then you came to Arendelle.”

“Yes.” There was just the faintest trace of bitterness in his voice. “Arendelle.”

“Was everything that we…” Anna bit her lip, turning her face towards ground. The fire cast flickering shadows against it. “Was it all a lie?”

The words tumbled out before she could stop them.

A dreadful silence followed. She could feel her face flushing with embarrassment.

“Of course not,” he said. “I do have a heart you know.”

Anna squeezed her eyes shut, not letting herself believe the words spilling out of his mouth.

Not letting herself believe the lies.

“I honestly enjoyed myself the night of your sister's coronation,” Hans continued. “But let's be honest, we'd only known each for a total of what? Three hours? What kind of person forms a legitimate attachment after such a short— Oh, that's right. _You._ "

Anna’s eyes snapped open. His words pierced though her gut.

Just like that, the conversation was dead. She sat in silence, not moving her eyes from their particular point on the ground, and then grabbed both of the waterskins. She stomped off to the stream, cheeks burning.

What had she been thinking?

Hans wasn’t nice. He’d never been nice. Would never be nice. Anything she said, he’d eventually throw back in her face. She knew that. But no, she just _had_ to be addicted to basic human interaction and get all pathetic and practically _beg_ him for a conversation.

Anna knelt by the stream and filled up the skins, wiping away any excess moisture from her eyes with the heel of her free hand. She tried not to directly look at him when she returned to camp, pushing past both him and the fire. She entered their small canvas structure and began to arrange the sleeping roll as comfortably as possible.

“Going to bed?” she heard him ask from outside.

Anna ignored him at first, but then… no. She wouldn’t _completely_ sink to his level.

“We have a long day ahead of us,” she said as she plumped and prodded her pack into a halfway decent pillow.

“What a shame. Just when I thought were we starting to hit it off again.”

Anna bit back a shriek of rage. She reminded herself that punching his face would only end up hurting her hand and lead to more difficulties the next day.

* * *

As much as Anna hated idea of going to sleep before him — he could do all sorts of mischief while she was unconscious — she didn’t have that much of a choice. Even if she could command him to fall asleep first, Anna had no guarantee that he’d fully obey.

Close his eyes? Sure. Pretend to be sleep? Sure. Actually fall asleep? Ha! Fat chance.

Might as well leave him next to the fire to keep an eye on it. Whatever the hell else he wanted, he’d do anyway.

Even with those completely logical thoughts, her stomach clenched in nervousness she curled up on her sleeping pad and faced the tarp wall. He could strangle her in her sleep and she’d have no way of stopping it…

Anna reviewed the decisions she’d made that had somehow led to her current situation. Had she done something wrong? Had she overlooked something that could’ve prevented all of this? She missed the others. Especially Maximus. He would’ve steered her straight, a bastion of justice and righteousness handpicked by her own cousin… and lost by her.

Still, the more she thought about it, Anna couldn’t think of anything she could have differently short of physically kidnapping one of the other princes and torturing Hans until he screamed out the directions to the cave in exchange for mercy… She guessed she could’ve never listened to Hans in the first place, but then she’d be stuck in Stralshagen with the rest of the Southern Islanders, just as clueless and helpless as she’d been when she first set off from Corona.

In the end, Anna was doing the best she could. She just had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. If she did that, everything would work out okay, just as it always did…

Anna shivered as a stray breeze wound its way into her shelter.

So why did she feel so lost?


	6. Act One: Part Six

Anna woke up, eyes wide and gasping for air.

The old nightmare had returned.

Elsa had been kneeling in grief across the fjord, Hans poised behind her ready to strike. His sword glinted in the frosty, sunlit air. Only in the nightmare Anna never got there fast enough. Her legs were always too frozen, her muscles too weak. As he swung, blood stained the white snow…

Anna shuddered.

It was just a dream. All just a dream.

As she slowly exhaled, Anna watched her breath condense in the morning air. That meant the storm was moving more quickly over the mountains than she’d hoped.

Anna tossed off her thin blankets and peeked her head outside. Hans had fallen asleep curled up with the horses against a nearby tree. No immediate threat there.

Of course, ‘immediate threat’ wasn’t quite the same as ‘no threat’…

No. Thinking that way wasn’t going to help her. She was stuck with Hans and she was going to have to make the most of it.

Her optimism lasted a grand total of twenty minutes.

After Anna woke him, Hans refused to help her pack up a single inch of their small camp, claiming his handcuffs got in the way. The sun was significantly higher in the sky by the time she was done, and — after a final visual sweep to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind — they were off.

They followed a path that sloped down from the mountain, growing steeper and steeper until they found themselves on an series of exposed switchbacks that led down into a shaded valley. The going was slow and exhausting; they had to dismount for safety, and Anna kept stumbling over scree despite her best attempts not too.

After they reached the bottom, there were even more unexpected delays.

The alpine streams she’d bragged to Hans about yesterday were starting to criss-cross in full force. Twice they were forced double back to find stable crossings for the horses.

Anna refilled the water skeins each time. She didn’t need to, but it only took a few minutes and prevented Hans from having one extra thing to complain about.

Speaking of Hans, the prince was making them stop more and more as the day went on. He’d sit atop Sitron with his eyes closed, and any time Anna tried to say a word he’d hush her silent.

“If you’re trying to remember the way, could you do it a little bit faster?” Anna asked after one particularly long pause. Her mare pawed at the ground in shared boredom. “Or, you know, you could always write the directions down somewhere and then we wouldn’t have to stop at all.”

Hans glared at her as the lines around his mouth twisted into an ugly scowl. Once upon a time it would’ve made her blood run cold; now Anna merely rolled her eyes.

Her nightmares were just that. A thing of the past.

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

“This way,” he said, steering Sitron forward.

Anna and her mare looked at each, both hapless passengers on this wild goose-quest, and ultimately followed.

After another hour, the ground started to flatten out again. Trees still loomed overheard, but they seemed to be stretching their arms out, spacing themselves further apart from one another. The path became a true path. The sky shone above from almost every angle instead of just popping out every now and again to briefly say “hi.”

A couple of birds chirped in the distance and Anna leaned back in her saddle, the calm, repetitive scenery a welcome reprieve from the more treacherous mountain paths.

Her horse froze.

The mare’s ears perked up. Her head swiveled from side to side. Her snout was taking in short sniffs… She let out a soft whinny as she stepped backwards several paces.

Anna’s hands tightened on the reins. “Hans…”

The prince seemed to be encountering similar difficulties with Sitron. His mouth was locked in a grim line.

“I know,” he said, scanning the forest.

Anna caught a dash of movement from the corner of her eye. She whipped her head to look, but it was gone.

Just shadows in the distant trees.

A shiver ran down her spine. She kept her eyes on the forest as her hand reached down, felt for the dagger concealed on her waist…

A ragged snarl came from her left, and a grey blur shot out from the trees. Her mare reared back in alarm, the blur missing it by inches. Anna’s knees dug into its sides as she clung on for dear life. The blur landed several feet away and materialized into an actual shape. It was a scrawny thing, more bones than flesh and muscle. Frost coated its fur as it howled low and long.

Wolves.

“Run!” Hans said, kicking Sitron into flight.

The movement shocked Anna back into reality and she followed suit.

Their horses galloped down the winding forest path as the cheerful sun mocked them overhead. Careful to stay on course, Anna risked turning her head back. Five more wolves had joined the first. They were continuing to chase her and Hans, but seemed to be falling further and further back. Yes! Their horses were outpacing them.

Anna’s heart did a little flip of glee. As long as she and Hans were able to maintain their speed, they’d be safe. There wouldn’t even have to be any mad leaps across snowy gorges or fireballs of destruction this time.

With renewed vigor, Anna turned back around. And screamed.

Her mare’s leg caught on an exposed root and tumbled forward, bringing Anna down with her. There was barely a second to think before the horse slammed into the ground and Anna was sent flying. The next collision knocked the breath out of her lungs and sent pain shooting up her leg.

Her head was scrambled. The world was a drunken mess of colors. Anna clutched at her forehead, trying to mentally straighten out everything around her.

She was lying off to the side of the main path. Her horse was down as well, collapsed a dozen or so feet away. Hans was far off and growing smaller. As she watched, he turned his head and bit out a curse…

A growl brought her attention back to herself.

The six wolves had closed in. A couple hovered by her horse, but the rest were creeping steadily towards her.

Anna unsheathed the dagger from her waist. The metal, so reassuring when it’d just been her and Hans,suddenly felt extremely childish and flimsy in her hands. It barely had any range. Her arm would get bitten off before she could get close enough to stab any of them.

What else was there…?

She scanned the area, her eyes falling on the main pack of supplies. Its buckles had broke free in the fall, and its contents were now half-scattered across the path. She focused in on one item in particular: the ice axe. It had a long shaft and a nice sharp pick. If she could just get to it…

Anna pushed herself up and tried to make a mad dash for it only for her ankle to give out on the first step. Pain lanced across it and she cried out, falling straight back to the ground, almost stabbing herself with the dagger as she did.

She grit her teeth as tears formed in her eyes. She was so close.

As the wolves closed in further, she held up her dagger again. One was readying itself to pounce. She swept the dagger back and forth at it like a horizontal pendulum. It paused for a moment, and then resumed its position. So close and…

“Anna!”

Her head jerked around to see Hans pulling up on Sitron beside her.

He’d come back.

She blinked in disbelief for a brief second before remembering the wolves.

“The ice axe!” she yelled.

She didn’t have to tell him twice. Despite his supposedly immobilizing handcuffs, Hans swung himself off Sitron in one fluid movement and took hold of the axe with the next.

He swung at the nearest wolf. It tumbled back with a high yelp as the blunt adze hit its ribs. Hans reversed his swing and struck the next with the pick. It pierced through the wolf’s side with a sickening squelch. As he pulled it back out, the wolf collapsed.

Hans stood over its corpse, axe gripped in his hands, the wolf’s blood dripping down its serrated steel. The wolves studied him, one bared its fangs… and then they scampered.

Anna let out a shaky breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“We shouldn’t stay here for long,” he said without a hint of emotion to his voice. “They might be back.”

Anna looked at the corpse at his feet and shivered. Its blood pooled on the grass below.

And then the grass turned to ice and it was Elsa lying there. Her sister dead on the fjord. Her eyes vacant and glassy.

No.

That was just the nightmare. In reality, Hans had just saved her. He’d just saved her life.

The wolf was not her sister.

Well, of course the wolf wasn’t her sister. When she thought about it _that_ way, the comparison seemed silly.

Slowly Anna nodded. She pushed herself up and gingerly tested the weight on her ankle. Even keeping most of the pressure off it, it still hurt. She must have twisted or strained it in the fall. Anna grimaced. She’d have to add that to the list of everything else that’d gone wrong on this mission. Still, she’d be riding her horse soon enough. Maybe she’d be able to rest and take a better look at it, after they put enough distance behind them.

Anna limped forward to where Hans was standing. He was still holding the bloodied ice axe. She still clutched her dagger. Neither of them moved to put their weapons away.

They stood there in the sunny clearing, staring at each other.

Finally Anna sighed and sheathed her dagger. If Hans really wanted her dead, he would’ve left her for the wolves. Part of the tension evaporated.

She looked at the corpse again against her own better judgement. Its face was locked in a permanent snarl.

“I don’t get it,” Anna said. “It’s summer. There should be plenty of food. Why did they attack?”

“Did you happen to miss the giant blizzard following us? They must’ve been trying to flee south, like we are.”

Anna raised an eyebrow. “We’re not _fleeing_ anywhere,” she said.

“Semantics,” he said, his shoulders slumping in exasperation. “You know what I mean.”

She looked around the clearing. Her pack was on the ground, its items scattered all over the path. Her mare was also on the ground, still struggling to get up.

Anna frowned. That wasn’t right.

“I need to check on my horse,” Anna said, limping over to the creature. “Can you gather all the stuff and repack it? We can get out of here faster if you do.”

She braced herself for another flurry of protests about his shackles, but for once Hans obeyed her. He gave her a single nod and went straight to work.

Anna returned her attention to the mare. Its eyes were wide and its nostrils flared. It gave a soft whiny as she stroked its muzzle. The poor thing was terrified. Once again, Anna was reminded of how much she missed Maximus. The mare had served her well the past two days and she felt guilty comparing the two horses like that, but Rapunzel’s trusty steed was _far_ more suited to a journey like this…

Anna nudged the horse up and gave an encouraging pull on the reins. It started to follow and then stumbled, collapsing once again.

Oh no.

Her stomach sunk. Anna dropped to her knees, ignoring the pain in her ankle, and began to examine the horse’s legs. All the others seemed okay, but its front right leg was bent in all the right places… and then in one additional and definitely _wrong_ one.

“What’s taking so long?”

A shadow crossed over her; Hans was standing behind her with a fully gathered pack. His eyes swept over the horse before landing on the problematic area. The prince stiffened and then began to chuckle. It reverberating through the clearing cold and hollow.

“Great,” she heard him say. “First you become a cripple. Now the horse.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Anna whispered.

Hans stared at her in silence and then sighed. He dropped the pack and held out his hand. “I do,” he said. “Give me the knife.”

Anna blinked at him in confusion. Then her eyes widened and she fell backwards in shock.

“No! You can’t!”

He frowned at her.

“Its leg is clearly broken, Anna. We can’t heal it. We can’t drag it along with us. If we leave it behind, it will die anyway, either by the snow or the wolves that followed us. A swift death would be the merciful thing to do.”

“No!” Anna stood up and took a painful step back. She winced and then faced Hans in defiance. “I’m not letting you kill her,” she said stiffly.

“Oh? So you want to let the wolves do that then?”

“No!”

“Then what.”

“I… I don’t know. Something.”

“Something isn’t a plan, Anna.”

“I know that! Just… just shut up and let me think. I can think of something…”

Hans regarded her expectantly and then sighed. “Alright then. While you think of your ‘something’, I’m going to start consolidating supplies. Sitron won’t be able to carry everything.”

“He won’t have to,” Anna spat out.

But Hans was already walking away. She watched him start to easily rummage through the packs despite his clunky handcuffs; so much for his last defense against camp pickup and set up.

She looked at the horse, still stuck on the ground making soft snorts of pain. Anna knelt down and ran her hands gently through its soft mane.

“Ssssh,” she said, stroking its neck. “It’ll be okay. I’ll find a way to get you through this.”

But no matter how hard she thought, her brain refused to come up with any kind of a solution. It was the cave all over again

She was useless. Completely and utterly useless.

“I have all the stuff packed up!” Hans called out. “Have you come up with a brilliant plan yet?”

“Go _away_!” Anna screeched.

And then she started crying. The tears came slowly at first… and then all of her pent up frustration burst into one giant sob. She scrubbed at her eyes trying desperately to stop, but her body refused to obey her.

“Here.”

Anna blinked through her teary fog to see Hans standing over her, both of his hands outstretched for her to take. She rubbed the heel of her hand over her eyes again and then grasped at him, letting him pull her up to her feet. Anna had barely a second to recover when she saw him hold out his hand again.

He wanted the knife.

She had to keep going. She had to find the stone and bring back summer. It was impossible for her to stay there, and the horse couldn’t go on.

It was practicality. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Anna took a deep breath and passed the knife to Hans.

She tried to watch as he knelt down to the creature’s level, as he splayed his hand over its chest, searching for its heart. She certainly owed it that much.

Hans lifted the knife, prepping for the kill.

She saw him and Elsa out on the ice.

She certainly owed it—

Anna turned away at the last second. She thought of anything, of everything, trying to block out the soft sounds. She stared at a small tuff of grass poking up from between a nearby cluster of rocks, silently sniffling.

A hand rested on her shoulder and Anna whirled around.

Hans was offering her back the dagger. Unlike the axe, he’d wiped the blade clean. She numbly took it and re-sheathed it. She dimly registered the body of the dead horse behind him.

“Come on,” Hans said.

He steered her over to Sitron who pawed at the ground anxiously. For not the first time, Anna wondered how much personality he shared with his master. Was it even _possible_ for a horse to be evil?

Hans coughed behind her, shattering her out of her daze. She patted her dagger for reassurance and climbed on. Seconds later, she felt Hans settle in behind her.

He was warm at least. That was a positive thing. Her list of positive things didn’t run much longer than that anymore. Anna watched as his arms lifted over her head to grab hold of the reins on either side of her, and then they were off.


	7. Act One: Part Seven

Anna drew circles in the dirt as the fire cast flickering shadows over their camp.

Today had been too close. She’d lost her horse, and if Hans hadn’t been as quick as he’d been she could’ve lost a lot more. As much as she hated it, she needed Hans. Not just for navigation but as a fellow traveller. If they ran into trouble again… If they ended up losing Sitron too…

She rummaged through their pack’s remaining supplies. She noticed Hans glance over from across the fire.

“Come here,” she said, not taking her attention off the pack.

Her hands finally closed on the coil of wire she’d been searching for. As she drew it out, Hans flinched. Anna blinked at him.

Oh. He must’ve thought she was about to try and strangle him.

Anna smacked her forehead. “No, you idiot,” she groaned. “Not everyone has murder on their mind like you. Give me your wrists.”

He hesitated for a moment and then reluctantly approached. He held his wrists out, the chains around their cuffs clicking against each other. Anna inspected the key holes. Luckily it seemed to be a rather straightforward kind of lock. She bent the end of her wire into the appropriate shape and got to work.

After fiddling with it for a couple seconds, Hans spoke.

“I didn’t know you were a lock picker.”

“Eh,” Anna said nonchalantly, keeping her focus on the small wire and equally small key hole. “I learned a thing or two here and there.”

“The Crown Princess of Arendelle considering a career in thievery?”

“No…” she said. She paused before grabbing Hans’ wrists to drag them into better light. “More like I never wanted to end up left in a locked room to helplessly freeze to death again.”

Hans didn’t respond to that. The pause slowly morphed into an awkward silence. Anna risked a glance at Hans’ face. It was completely blank, neither eyes nor mouth betraying a single emotion. His freckles were the same as ever. His eyelashes, Anna also noted, were particularly thick and beautiful from this close…

It was completely unfair. Weren’t all evil people supposed to be the ugly ones? All the authors of her favorite childhood fairy tales had a lot to answer for.

She turned her attention back to her work.

Perhaps this wasn’t a good decision. There was a fair chance he’d try and kill her again as soon as the shackles were off. He’d stabbed that wolf like it was nothing. Same with the horse. She’d be no match for him if it came to a physical fight.

But at the same time, she reminded herself, he’d also saved her life. Why would he wait to slit her throat when he could’ve had a wolf disembowel her?

She twisted her lips in disgust at the mental image.

And of course, if another wolf incident did happen — or something just as bad where he needed his hands— then they’d both be dead, and where would that leave her?

If anything, her ghost would probably have to listen to his ghost gloat about it from now until eternity.

With a final click his cuffs were off.

Hans sat back, rubbing his newly freed wrists. There were red marks from where the metal had chaffed over the last four days.

“Thank you,” he finally said, soft but clear.

“You’re welcome,” she heard herself saying in response.

He glanced around, seemingly regaining his bearings, and then his gaze focused on the wire in Anna’s hands.

“Give that here,” he said, holding out a hand.

Now it was Anna’s turn to recoil.

“Please.” He sighed. “Look, contrary to what you believe, I don’t have murder constantly on the mind either. You want fresh meat for dinner? Then give it.”

Oh. She’d been wondering what the wire’s original purpose had been. It was trapping wire.

Anna briefly considering just handing it over and letting him do whatever with it, then tossed the idea away. She couldn’t give him too much freedom too fast.

“Show me how to them set up,” she said.

“No way,” he said with a dismissive snort. “Your foot’s injured, remember? You need to stay sitting, not go tramping all over the forest and hurt yourself more than you already have.”

“Fine. Then just show me how to set up one.”

“No.”

“What you break your leg tomorrow? Or get knocked unconscious? What if the only way we can survive is for me to set a trap and I don’t know how to do it because, _Oh no! My poor ankle wasn’t strong enough!_ ” Anna swept her hand across her forehead in dramatic agony.

Hans rolled his eyes.

“Whatever,” he said. “It’s your ankle.”

He stalked off and she cheerfully limped after him. She carefully watched as he scanned the forest floor.

“Are you looking for tracks?” she asked, still clutching the wire.

“I’m looking for trails.”

“What’s the difference?”

He regarded her disdainfully, as though only an idiot didn’t know that bit of knowledge. Anna refused to blush or be embarrassed. She crossed her arms and waited for an answer.

“Tracks are evidence of one particular animal,” Hans said with a sigh. He resumed his search. “Trails are evidence of multiple animals over the same course.”

“Like a path versus a footprint?”

“Precisely.”

After a couple more minutes of searching, Hans found one and pointed out the telltale signs to look for. Anna nodded along, only mildly seeing what was apparently obvious to him. He coached her through the set-up of the actual trap. Anna felt mildly guilty as she tied a loop across a narrow gap between two baby trees, but she was also very hungry. She tried to tell herself that it was no different from all the other rabbits she’d eaten before. She’d just know where this particular rabbit had come from.

Finally, with her ankle throbbing slightly more than she’d care to admit, she relinquished the wire to Hans so he could set up more traps as she limped back to camp.

He wasn’t gone very long. Of the eight traps he ultimately set, two captured rabbits within the hour. For the second time that day he asked for her knife, but this time Anna shook her head.

“This I’ve actually got,” she said looking at the carcasses dangling from Hans’ hands. Kristoff had taught her how to skin rabbits, although she’d only done it once. “We only need the two. Go get rid of the remaining traps before they kill any more.”

Hans shrugged and dumped the rabbits directly into her lap.

Their dead eyes stared up at her as she fought back an initial shriek of shock and then a curse at Hans’ retreating head. Anna scowled briefly before beginning the dirty chore. She had the meat tied up and roasting on a spit by the time he returned.

Despite everything else that’d happened that day, Anna couldn’t help but let out a soft moan when she finally unwrapped bit into one. After an entire two days of salted jerky, the tender meat was pure heaven.

“That good, huh?”

“Yesh,” she said, not bothering that her mouth was full as she said it.

“It’s not bad,” he said between bites. Unlike Anna he ate with a sort of dining room precision, careful not to let any of the juices drip down his hands and onto his clothes. If they’d had a napkin, Anna would’ve expected him to pull it out and start dabbing the sides of his face.

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Hans flashed her a quick grin and then resumed eating.

She didn’t talk much after that. He didn’t either. Simply eating and then sitting in each other’s presence seemed to be enough as far as interaction went. If she thought too much, Anna began to remember the wolves and her poor mare, how she’d just sat there and let it happen, but sitting there by the fire, listening to its crackle as it echoed off the trees, she was able to slip into a thoughtless trance and just be.

It seemed to be enough for Hans too.

At last the fire started to die down and a chill swept through the bight air. Hans’ shivered and then started to make his way to Anna’s makeshift tarp structure. She considered yelling out that it was her tent, that he could go sleep with the horses again, but quickly scolded herself for the childishness of the idea.

Anna knew they’d have to share it sooner or later. It was just going to keep getting colder as the storm slowly caught up to them, and once the snow came, ordering Hans to sleep outside would be tantamount to suicide.

She didn’t have to like it though.

Anna debated staying by the fire and keeping it tended throughout the night for warmth. If she did that though, she wouldn’t get much sleep, if any, and she’d have to continually wander the forest for extra firewood. And even then, only one side of her would ever be warm at a time…

With a defeated huff, Anna slowly made her own way over to the shelter. Hans was already stretched out across its left side as she entered. She took up her own position on the right, trying to ignore his breathing as she kept her back to him.

“How many more days to the cave?” she asked as she shifted. The ground was cold and lumpy even through the tarp beneath her.

“Maybe one or two? It’s hard to say now that we only have Sitron.” In such close quarters, Anna could feel the reverberations as he spoke. “And then we’ll have to climb part of the mountain.”

“Mountain?”

“I told you. The stone’s in a secret mountain cave.”

“Secret mountain cave,” Anna said with a yawn. “Of course.”

“Hey. I wasn’t the one who decided to put it there.”

“Sure, you weren’t.”

They bantered a bit more about meaningless things. Whenever his responses got too rude, she’d elbow him lightly in the back. For once Anna was grateful for the prince’s annoying voice; it took her mind off far more depressing things.

She didn’t remember when she finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Anna woke in the blue, pre-dawn light to a sharp blast of winter air. The main tarp had snapped free of several of its ties and was flapping wildly in the wind. The fire pit was completely dead. Had been dead for hours. She could barely see the trees on the other side of their camp but already white flakes were beginning to coat them all.

The blizzard had caught up to them.

“Shit!” yelled a voice next to her.

Hans was awake.

Anna quickly went through their options: they could attempt to set up the tent again and try to sleep for another hour or two… or they could suck it up and just start moving.

Another blast of cold air hit her arms and Anna shivered.

Start moving it was.

“There’s no sense staying here!” she shouted to Hans. Already the wind carrying her voice away, making it hard to communicate. “Come on. Help me pack up!”

The wolf attack had certainly been the turning point for something. It was somewhat unsettling how quickly Hans seemed to listen to her now, but she wasn’t about to complain. They had their stuff packed up and Sitron saddled in record time. Hans swung up behind her and they were off, letting the outwards push of the storm guide them to the south.

Anna was incredibly grateful now to have Hans behind her. The icy wind stung her face, her hands… she stuck them underneath her cloak and let Hans do all the steering. If the prince noticed how she leaned back at times, attempting to shelter herself with his body as much as possible, he thankfully didn’t say anything.

It wasn’t perfect though. With the extra weight on Sitron’s back _and_ the wind _and_ the quickly accumulating snow, Hans had to get off every now and again to give Sitron a rest. He held Sitron’s reins with one hand, burying the other beneath his clothes.

At one point, Anna got off and tried to lead, to pull her own weight, but it didn’t work out. Hans was taller, his legs longer. Where he stepped easily through the snow, Anna struggled to lift her knees fully up and over. The snow fell so fast and cold that it froze in layers of icy sheets rather than the fluffy powder she was used to back home. She had to slam her heel down to break through, and she could only use her one good foot to do so.

Hans let her flounder for barely five minutes before ordering her back up on the horse.

They spent most of the morning like that, twisting and turning through the woods, Hans hopping on and off like irregular clockwork. Or at least Anna assumed it was still morning. It was hard to tell time when the sun was blocked out by the clouds.

Hans was off again, leading about three feet in front of Sitron when she heard a tell-tale crunch.

Her eyes snapped wide. By habit, her hands reached out and yanked back on the reins near Sitron’s mouth. The horse reared back onto safe ground as a cornice cracked apart beneath her.

“Look out!” she screamed.

It broke off from the cliff’s edge. Hans fell with it, and her heart threatened to leap out of her chest.

Ohhhhh no. No no no no no no no.

She took a couple of split seconds to survey her surroundings. The ground had been gradually sloping up over the course of the past hour. They’d passed the tree line about twenty feet back. In front of her, even taking into account the snow, there was nothing. Pure white nothing.

Shoot! How could she’ve been so _stupid_?!

She slid off of Sitron and carefully made her way forward. Who knew how far up they were? How steep and tall the cliffs were? If Hans had truly fallen… If he’d just died and she was stuck here…

Alone…

She leaned over and spotted the top of his orange head through the whiteout.

“Hans!” she cried out in giddy relief. He’d managed to clutch onto the side of the cliff face about twenty feet down. She gave a quick silent prayer of thanks. “Just you hold on, okay?! I’m going to grab the rope and toss it down! Whatever you do, don’t let go!”

“Of course! Because I _really_ needed you to tell me that!” he shouted back.

At least he wasn’t seriously injured. That was good.

She rushed over to Sitron and dug through the pack for their rope and ice axe. Keeping a safe distance from the edge, she stamped down a patch of snow with her good foot until it was nice and compact. Then she slammed the ice axe down into it, pick first.

Now she was left with the tricky part…

How did she set it up again?

Extremely conscious of her sole traveling partner currently dangling on the side of the cliff, Anna tried and failed several times to set up the boot-axe belay.

Rope went parallel to the axe… then back and around her boot… Yes!

Mostly confident that she had it right this time, she tied one end of the rope several times around her waist and then carried to rest over to the edge.

“Don’t grab on until I say so!” she yelled down. “Otherwise we’re both dead! Oh! And when you grab onto it, you’re gonna to have to try and lean back and sort of walk up!”

“Wonderful! Just hurry it up!”

Anna half-limped, half-ran back to the axe and crouched down into position. If she had this wrong—

“Now!” she yelled, her hands gripping around the rope.

Anna was yanked forward as Hans weighted his end of the rope. She managed to catch herself as the fibers burned against her palms.

Oh God, he was heavier than she’d thought. Taking a deep shuddering breath, she readied herself and began to pull. Left hand went forward, and then dragged back. Right hand grabbed the new position. Left hand went forward again… and then back…

She let herself fall into the slow rhythm and ignored the ache building in her back. She was grateful for the thick winter boots she’d brought with her from Arendelle.

And Elsa had lectured her for bringing them, saying that they’d just be wasted space in her luggage.

Hah!

At last she managed to pull Hans up over the top. She fell backwards into the snow as he let go of his side of the rope. He fell to the ground as well, clearly exhausted from the effort of holding on. They both laid there, panting, trying to regain control of their lungs as the blizzard continued to howl.

Hans slowly looked up and stared at her.

“You… you saved me…” he said in disbelief.

Anna stared back at him.

“Well, yeah,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand and a brief laugh. “I mean, it’s not like we’re on a critical mission to save the world together or anything like that.”

Anna picked herself up and began untying the rope from her waist. Her hands hurt and her fingers were numb, so it took longer than she would’ve liked. Hans was still staring at her with a strange sort of dazed look on his face as she pulled the ice axe out of the snow.

“Oh, come on already,” she snapped. “Before this whole cliffside falls out from under us.”

She tossed the supplies in Sitron’s pack and led him back down to the tree line. Hans silently followed.

“I thought you knew where we were going!” Anna said once they were beneath the branches and better sheltered from the wind.

“I did!” he said. “…I do!” Sitron let out a snort, and Hans glared at his previously loyal steed. “You’re not allowed to give me that look.”

Anna nearly screamed in aggravation.

“Look! I am not going a _step_ further in this godforsaken storm until I know _exactly_ where it is I’m walking. I don’t care about your secrets! I need a map. Now!”

Hans crossed his arms and grumbled under his breath. He looked up at the sky, seemingly at war within himself, and then he grudgingly snapped off a twig from the nearest tree and began drawing a crude map in the snow.

“This is where we are,” he said pointing to a random spot next to some squiggles. “And this is where we should be going.”

Anna squinted, trying to make sense of the thing.

Hans had many skills. Map making wasn’t one of them.

“Well,” she said. “Your ‘where we are’ is definitely wrong, since you just walked us off a cliff.”

“ _Almost_ walked us off a cliff.”

“Oh, my _deepest_ apologies,” Anna said in her stuffiest princess voice. She splayed her hand against her chest. “ _Almost._ ”

“It you don’t have anything constructive to say, then don’t.”

Anna started to stick her tongue out at him, but the cold made her instantly retract it. She returned her attention to his pathetic map instead.

“What are these?” she asked, pointing to the squiggles.

“There’s a natural pass that should lead us down straight into the final valley,” he said, tracing their length. “The mountain with the cave is on the other side.”

“And these?” she asked, pointing to some other nearby markings.

“Streams. They connect to the main valley river here.”

Anna surveyed the entire map and frowned.

“Well,” she finally said. “Based on these cliffs, we didn’t hit your pass. We can either try to find it, which — in this blizzard — will be like trying to find coal in a cobblestone street, _or_ , using the cliffside as a handrail, we can keep going east until we hit this stream here. It might not be as pretty as the pass, but it should still get us down.”

“And if there are waterfalls?”

“Then at least we’ll know where we are again.”

Hans was silent. His eyes swept over his map as his lips twisted in annoyance.

“Fine,” he bit out. “I suppose if that’s the best you can come up with.”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Anna scoffed. “I don’t hear you coming up with anything.”

“The best _we_ can come up with,” he modified.

Anna was still a bit disgruntled but took it as the only apology she was going to get.

“Better” she said.

Hans scuffed out the snow map with his boot as they left. Anna sighed at his paranoia. The falling snow would’ve fully covered it up within the next twenty minutes. Maybe less.

Still, Hans was being as agreeable as she could expect him. She could grant him a little leeway as far as paranoia went.

They set out on a new trail, parallel to the cliffside. She and Hans stayed alert now, always careful to stay within the tree line and far away from any hidden cornices, until they came to the small stream that Hans had drawn on his map. It had already frozen over with the storm. They followed it as it twisted and turned down into the valley.

Her luck finally start to kick in. There were no waterfalls or steep drop offs, and the deep snow made it somewhat easier to plunge step their way down.

The stream met up with the valley river at the bottom, and the ground leveled out again. Hans and Anna wandered up and down the river’s shores until they found a giant tree that had fallen across, making a solid natural bridge. Sitron needed some slight coaxing, but with some minor effort they were over and safe on the other side. With no cliffs or cornices in sight, it’d be mindless trekking from here to their final camp at the base of the final mountain.

Anna’s thoughts started to drift again as she tried to ignore the numbness of her toes. When they finally brought back summer, Anna made a vow that she’d hop into a sauna and then never ever _ever_ come out…

* * *

They set up their final camp at the base of a steep mountain. Anna’s luck was continuing to hold out; a couple of large trees had fallen next to some large boulders. Combined, the group of objects would serve as a good natural walls for the night’s shelter.

Anna handed over the trapping wire to Hans with no protest this time, and he wandered off to catch dinner as she began digging out and piling up snow for extra insulation. She tied their main tarp over the top to create a nice little ceiling, started a fire near the entrance, and — by the time Hans returned — thought she might actually be getting some feeling back into her outer extremities.

She’d made the shelter big enough for Sitron that night. He laid down and Hans and Anna leaned against him as they ate, his skin warm against their backs.

“So. Almost there,” she said between bites. “How far up is the cave?”

“Not entirely sure,” Hans replied. He paused to pick out a bit of stray meat from his teeth. “The book never gave directions in terms of actual distances. It prefered cryptic passages about turning left at the rock of the falcon and nonsense like that.”

“Explain to me why I agreed to go along with you in all of this again.”

Hans smiled, the light of the fire catching in his now spotless teeth. “Because you, like me, had no other choice.”

“Yeah,” Anna said with a deflated sigh. “I was worried it was something like that.”

Hans chuckled at that. Not his hollow chuckle. Or his dismissive chuckle. Or his “I know more than you do” chuckle. But rather an honest-to-god, genuine chuckle. It was warm and rich and made the skin around his eyes crinkle ever so slightly.

Anna didn’t like it.

She turned her attention back to her rabbit.

“If I had to guess though,” she heard Hans said. “I’d say… three thousand feet? Give or take.”

Anna’s heart sunk.

“And I don’t suppose we can take Sitron with us?”

“Nope. On foot from here on out.”

As if on cue, Anna’s ankle throbbed. She winced at the thought of trudging up three thousand vertical feet on it.

“If my ankle gives out,” Anna said. “You’re carrying me the rest of the way up.”

“Done,” Hans said automatically.

Anna stared at him. “Done?” she repeated. “Just like that?”

“Of course. We made it this far. I’m not letting something as silly as a sprained ankle stop us.”

Us. It felt weird hearing him refer to the two of them like that. A weird, silly feeling. After all, they were working together. It was only natural that Mister Thirteenth Loner Prince would start including himself as part of a team, and still…

Anna didn’t like it.

She finished the remainder of her rabbit and tossed the stick it’d been roasting on away.

Sticks.

That reminded her.

“I need you to go out and grab sticks. Long ones. As straight as you can find. And with as many leaves still attached as possible. We need…” Anna paused, doing the calculations in her head. “At least 50? 60?”

Hans stared at her like she’d just grown an extra head.

“You want me to go out in _this_ ,” he said, referring to the blizzard now howling above them. “For sticks.”

“Well, they’re more than just sticks. They’re markers. In case we get lost.”

“…markers.”

“Yeah, climbing markers. Think of them like breadcrumbs. We have this huge rope, right? So we tie ourselves to either end. You know where we’re going so you’ll be in front, and that means you can carry them. I follow after you. Every time I get to one of your markers, I’ll stop and that’ll be your signal to stick another one in.”

“Hmm…” Hans said. “So even if it’s a complete whiteout, we’ll be able to find our way back. Not half bad… Did your mountain man teach you that?”

Anna glared at him darkly. “His _name_ is Kristoff.”

“Christian. My apologies.”

“Kris _toff_ ,” Anna corrected.

She knew Hans was messing it up on purpose by the smirk he gave her in response.

“Very well. I’ll risk my life for your sticks.”

Anna smiled at him cheerfully as he left their camp with a half-hearted scowl. She waited in silence before trying to talk with Sitron, but the horse was already asleep.

She didn’t have to wait too much longer. Hans had made his opinion about gathering sticks in the middle of a blizzard at night clear, and he got the task over with as quickly as possible.

Anna nodded in approval as he dumped the sticks at her feet and collapsed next to her.

“I suppose these are acceptable,” she said, examining one in detail. Her heart swelled at the dirty look Hans gave her in response. She grabbed a couple and tossed them in his lap. “Here. Help me snap off the branches from the bottom of these.”

“I thought you said you wanted all the leaves you could get,” Hans muttered.

“At the top, yeah. At the bottom they just make it harder to stick ‘em into the ground.”

Hans shook his head, but got to work. With two pair of hands, the task went quickly.

“We’ll have to take turns sleeping tonight,” she heard Hans say as they finished stripping the last few. “We can’t let the fire go out. Do you want to take the first watch or…”

“I’ll take it,” Anna said.

Even after their cooperation of the past two days, she was still uncomfortable falling asleep next to him. Not only that, but a frisson of anticipation coursed through her.

By this time tomorrow they’d have the stone. They’d have what they came for and this sudden winter would be just one more thing of the past. If Anna tried to go to sleep now, she just knew she’d be lying awake for hours.

Hans, it seemed, didn’t care about the order of their shifts. He simply turned to his side and fell asleep against Sitron right then and there. She supposed it made sense. The three of them were curled up next to each other and the fire was roaring just a couple feet away… it was as warm and cozy as they were going to get that night.

That left Anna alone with nothing but the fire for companionship.

The night dragged on.

Anna wondered what Elsa… what Kristoff was doing at that very second. Had Aunt Primrose’s message gotten through to Arendelle? If it had, Anna could just picture it now. Elsa would be battling her way across the seas to get to Corona. She’d be using her powers of course, freezing waves before they got too huge and wild to capsize her ship.

Or would that just end up creating icebergs?

Anna prayed that — wherever she was — Elsa was safe. Maybe the message hadn’t gotten through yet and Elsa had no idea the blizzard even existed. Maybe the most serious thing on her mind was yet another petty argument with her ministers over ice delivery regulations.

She much preferred that to the thought of Elsa surrounded by deadly icebergs. Even if it meant that Anna was on her own.

Well. Not completely on her own.

Anna glanced over at Hans. He was sleeping peacefully, his back moving slightly as he breathed and his lips parted ever so slightly. His sideburns, which used to be trimmed with the utmost precision, had grown rather ragged over the past several days. Stubble coated the bottom half of his face, painting a ghostly outline of mustache and beard. She hadn’t even noticed it until now. Anna wondered what it’d be like to…

She suddenly had a silly urge to pinch Hans’ nose and see how he’d react.

She quashed it down.

That sort of behavior and the reaction she half-hoped for belonged to the “old” Hans. The “old” Hans that wasn’t even the “old” Hans because there’d never _been_ any “old” Hans, just the “fake” Hans and she hated the “fake” Hans.

And the “real” Hans.

Would hate for as long as she lived.

Anna crossed her arms and turned back towards the fire. It was going to be a long shift.


	8. Act One: Part Eight

Since there was no way of telling time, Anna just stayed awake as long as physically possible. She held out until her eyes were drooping more often than not, and then nudged Hans with the edge of her boot.

He stirred, vehemently mumbling something in his sleep about his brother Georg. Anna turned the nudge into a kick and he jolted awake, swearing.

“Your turn for watch,” she said flatly.

Hans grumbled something about true princesses being nice and gentle, but she ignored the bait and flopped over onto her side. But despite her exhaustion, Anna couldn’t seem to get comfortable.

She squirmed continuously. The permeating cold that had helped her stay alert through her long watch was now working against her.

“Knock it off,” she heard Hans say after her tenth adjustment. “You’re being annoying.”

“Can’t help it,” Anna muttered. “It’s too cold.”

She spent another five minutes shifting.

“Oh, for the love of—” Hans said. “Take off your cloak.”

Anna turned to stare at him.

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Just do it.”

Anna eyed him suspiciously, searching for some sort of explanation in his face, but found none. Slowly she unclasped her outer garment.

“Now lean forward,” he said.

Anna barely had time to think about what he was doing before Hans yanked on the edge that was closest to him and deftly wrapped her cloak around the two of them, pulling them closer together as he did so.

Her face burned red.

She was pressed up against him now. Too close. Far too close. But she was _also_ suddenly much warmer. Princes, it seemed, had their uses.

Even the traitorous, backstabbing ones.

It was hard to turn beneath the cloak without pulling it off either one of them. She experimented a bit and found that most comfortable position would be facing forward with her head resting lightly on his shoulder for support.

Anna instantly vowed to sleep sitting upright for the rest of the night and deal with any resulting neck soreness in the morning. But even as she vowed it, she found her head slowly drooping to the left.

“Just go to sleep already,” Hans said, his voice rumbling against her chest. “You’ll need your rest for the morning. Either we’ll save the world or we’ll fail miserably.”

Right. If everything went according to plan, it would be their last morning without the stone. After that they’d set off again, heading home…

“What are you going to do afterwards?” Anna asked.

She glanced up to see Hans pondering her question as the flames crackled in front of them. He shrugged.

“No clue,” he said. “I suppose I’ll just be locked up again though.”

“That’s not right,” she mumbled.

Hans stared at her.

“Not right?” he said somewhat incredulously. “I tried to steal your kingdom from you, Anna. Or did you forget that already?”

“No!” Anna said. She sucked in a deep breath. “It’s just that… Like, prisons and stuff are supposed to reform people. Make people pay for what they’ve done. Make them better.” Anna sighed. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess this could be a way of paying. Don’t you think?”

Hans blinked at her.

“Perhaps…” he finally said.

The conversation drifted into silence. Anna yawned. Against her brain’s wishes, her head tilted and then slowly drooped down onto Hans’ shoulder. This time she let it stay there. After all, it was a rather perfect height. It’d be a shame to waste it.

“But if you did get let out for this,” she murmured, coming back around to her original question. “Honestly. What would you do?”

“Why do you care?”

“Who said I cared?” Anna grumbled. “I’m just… just bored, that’s all. Not like there’s anything else to talk about.”

“Mmm, sure.”

Anna could just picture his smug smile. She elbowed him hard enough to get an “ow!” in response, and she smiled herself.

“Seriously though?” Hans said. He sighed. “I have no idea. Other than leave the Southern Isles, that is. Wouldn’t have to give that a second thought. But after that? Your guess would be as good as mine. But… I think I’ve had enough of royalty. Maybe I’d wander off somewhere into the wilderness. Try to find Erich.”

“Which one was Erich again?” Anna asked, knowing it was one of his brothers but failing to remember anything else.

“The wanderer. Our family’s black sheep.”

“No, that’s not right,” Anna mumbled.

“Excuse you,” Hans said, sounding mildly affronted. “I think I know my own brothers.”

“No, no… Not that.” Anna smiled sleepily. “I remember him now. He’s your family’s brown sheep. You’re the black one.”

Hans snorted.

“Fair enough,” he said. “You’ve got me there.”

“But really,” — Anna scrunched her nose as she thought back to his earlier words — “after this, you’d leave your castle for more wilderness?”

Anna could feel his chest puff out in protest. “I think I’ve proven I can handle myself,” he said indignantly. “Furthermore, if I was free, I’d be able to choose when I traveled. And I think after these past two blizzards, I’m going to be a solely summer man from now on.”

“I suppose a true summer for once would make things sliiiiightly easier,” Anna said. “You could actually see where you’re going for starters.”

“No scavenging wolves at your heels for that matter,” Hans said with a wistful sigh.

“Just think. You could walk a mile and still feel your toes at the end of it.”

“What are toes again?”

Anna sleepily giggled despite herself. She closed her eyes, letting herself drink in what meager warmth should could from the fire and the surrounding body heat. She flinched as she felt a sudden pressure on the top of her head. Her eyes fluttered open and she vaguely realized that Hans was now resting his own head on top of hers.

She should’ve told him to shove off, but it seemed slightly hypocritical. Besides, she was far too tired at the moment for that level of effort. Far too tired to deal with any sort of inevitable protests or passive-aggressive remarks.

At least that was the excuse she told herself.

Anna closed her eyes again and listened to the steady rhythm of the fire.

“Why did you do it?” she suddenly asked.

The words echoed in the small confines of the shelter, an uneasy new tension piercing the air. He didn’t respond.

“We would’ve welcomed you, you know,” she continued, cracking her eyes barely open so that the world was still fogged by her lashes. “I mean, maybe not Elsa at first. She wasn’t really in the welcoming mood for anybody. But… eventually. We would’ve.”

She was met with more silence. And then…

“Because I’m a soulless monster,” he said with a mocking snort.

Anna’s eyes opened as she frowned.

“Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?” Hans asked.

“No! I wanted you to…” Anna bit her tongue before she said something he’d misinterpret. She sighed. “I don’t want anything. Well, no… I want the truth.”

“The truth?” Hans chuckled. “The truth is that I’m a foolish prince who’s never been good at anything in life. No position… Nothing to offer… So I’ve had to learn to take things for myself.”

Something about the blatant contempt he’d set aside for himself itched beneath her skin.

“That’s not true.”

“Hmm? Defending the villain so soon?”

“No!” Anna said quickly. Ugh, she’d just known he’d twist what she was trying to say. “I’m not talking emotionally or anything. I mean, who knows what’s going on up there.” She gestured weakly towards his head even though her hand was trapped out of sight beneath her cloak. “It’s just… you’re actually good at a lot of things. We got reports, you know, afterwards. About when I left you in charge? You really took hold of the situation, kept things organized, distributed supplies where they were needed… Even if it was all just an act, you did… good.”

Hans shifted, turning his face towards Anna. The light from fire reflected off it. His eyes were soft as they stared at her, his cheekbones sharp and prominent from the shadows.

Anna inhaled shortly.

When it came right down to it, Anna was happy with Kristoff. Sure they got on each other’s nerves every once in awhile, but what couple didn’t? Her current boyfriend was cute and handsome in his own adorable way… even if she had to literally _push_ him into the bathtub at times because he was convinced he didn’t smell _that_ bad.

Yes.

At the end of the day, Anna was quite satisfied with what she had.

But _God_ … Hans was gorgeous.

Anna swallowed nervously at the somewhat unconscious confession. At the same time, she couldn’t deny it or forget it either.

Ugh. Nope.

Life was unfair. So, so terribly unfair.

Anna averted her eyes as the silence grew longer and more awkward. “I just think,” she continued, now talking to his neck. “Maybe if you focused on doing stuff like that, then people would genuinely like you for you. You’d find your place, escape your brothers’ shadows, and then…”

Anna trailed off, not knowing exactly where she was trying to head towards. She bit her lip, twiddling her thumbs beneath the heavy cloak.

“You really think I can change?” Hans asked, his voice soft and full of… something.

Ann glanced up.

Big mistake.

He was too close, his gaze too intense. His full attention was locked onto her and she had nowhere to run.

Anna’s breath hitched, her heart beating fast. She could feel her cheeks growing exponentially warmer. The crackle of the fire drowned out any other thought as his face drew closer, and then — ever so lightly -- their lips touched in the softest of brushes.

A slight tingling swept through her whole body. Anna closed her eyes and leaned forward to—

Anna froze.

What was she doing?

Oh no. No no no no.

She jerked backwards, eyes wide and mortified. Her face felt ready to burn itself off. Anna turned her attention towards the fire, towards the walls of their makeshift shelter, towards Sitron.

Anywhere but Hans.

“I- I should really get to sleep,” she eventually managed. It sounded lame even to her own ears.

Hans remained silent. Anna didn’t know whether that or an actual response from him would’ve been worse.

She shifted underneath their cloak until her back was facing him. Her face was slightly colder at this angle, and there was an awkward tug as the fabric was stretched to its limits, but she didn’t care about that anymore.

Ugh! Anna couldn’t believe she’d actually just let him—!

If one thing was clear, it was that she was _never_ going down that path again. Hans was probably playing her again. Using her for… something. Anna had no idea what that something was, but she was sure there was a ‘something.’

After all, that was all he’d ever seen her as. A useful tool to further his own ambitions. A tool that could be easily used and manipulated and then disposed of.

_Elsa was preferable of course. But no one was getting anywhere with her._

Anna shivered, trying to both embrace and block out the memory. Whatever he said now, whatever challenges they ended up facing together… Nothing could erase those words.

Nothing could erase that day.

Her eyes started to prick with tears. Anna blinked them away before they made her face even colder.

She was better than this. Stronger than this.

But no matter how much she repeated that to herself, her heart was still pounding wildly and she couldn’t quite figure out how to slow it.

* * *

“Alright! Final climb!” hollered Anna enthusiastically over the howling gales of the blizzard. She was both running high on adrenaline and over-compensating for the miserable wreck her mind was in. “You ready for this?!”

Hans turned in mid-pack preparation to Sitron, who snorted. Hans pushed his muzzle playfully away.

“Says the horse who gets to sit here and wait for us to get back,” Hans said with a wry grimace.

Anna opened her mouth to tease him and then closed it.

The atmosphere was light that morning. Too light.

Both of them were acting like the events of the previous night had never happened. Hans wasn’t because, well, Anna had no idea why Hans did anything, and she wasn’t because… well, if he wasn’t going to bring it up, she wasn’t about to.

Overall, Anna was grateful for that.

She and Hans were traveling buddies. Adventures companions. Something.

They already had more than enough painful history between them. There wasn’t any need to go and make it more painful.

Anna took a few experimental steps around their small shelter, adjusting to the new weight and feel of the rope tied across her waist as she waited for Hans to haul the pack that Sitron had been previously carrying up and over his own shoulders.

“Alright,” he called. “Ready when you are.”

Anna grinned and pushed past the branches they’d been using as a pseudo-doorway. An icy blast instantly wiped it from her face.

The blizzard had fully settled over them, thicker and sharper than in any of the days past. The wind and snow stung her face, making her cheeks burn.

Hans had been right; Sitron was in no place to make snarky horse huffs.

“You first!” Anna yelled, sweeping her hands uphill as Hans made his way out of their shelter.

The white air blurred most of his facial details, but Anna thought she could see a hint of a scowl as he stepped past her. Then they were off.

Or rather, they were off at trudging crawl.

Her ankle still throbbed, but luckily the pain was nowhere near as bad as it’d been the past several days. She stamped slowly up the side of the mountain, following as best she could in Hans’ deep footsteps.

Hans was carrying the markers and planted them as he went. Every time she’d reach one, she’d stop walking and wait for the inevitable tug as Hans nearly pulled her off her feet. Her system seemed to be working though. She’d wait by the half-stripped branch in the snow until she felt another, gentler tug which was her signal to start moving again. Every forty or so paces, she’d come to the next one and then the whole cycle would start over.

Anna had no idea how long they continued up like that. The sun too was weak to filter through the sotrm clouds, giving no inclination of the time. The entire world was the exact same shade of white.

There was no sky…

No ground…

Only her own body and the rope that extended up and out of sight hinted at there being anything else in existence.

Soon enough she was able to make out a faint shape in the distance. Its outline grew clearer as she approached. Anna squinted and frowned.

It was Hans.

She looked down; there was enormous amount of slack in the rope. For whatever reason he’d stopped moving and now she was catching up to him. Anna picked up the extra rope, loosely coiling it as she approached.

“What is it?” she yelled when he was close enough to hear her through the wind.

Hans was roughly standing in one place, but his feet kept shuffling back and forth as though he couldn’t get them to agree with any sort of command coming from his brain. His torso kept twisting as well, like he was trying to look in all four main directions at once. Anna’s stomach suddenly felt extremely queasy…

“I… I can’t…” he called out, struggling intensely for any sort of words.

As she drew closer still, Anna could see his eyes, wide and pain-stricken. His brow was creased in frustration. Never before had she seen him look so…

Lost.

“What do you mean you can’t! Can’t _what?!_ ” she practically screamed, even though she dreaded the answer.

“I… Everything in the book was all riddles! I solved each and every one, but now I can’t see anything that describes…” He cursed beneath his breath. “I can’t see anything at all! It’s hopeless!” He suddenly glared at Anna. “If you’d just been a couple days earlier—!”

“Whoa! Whoa!” Anna exclaimed. “When did this suddenly become _my_ fault! I’ve been traveling non-stop for the past two weeks! You’d still be locked up in your tower if it wasn’t for me!”

He continued glaring at Anna… and then all his energy seemed to rush out of him. His legs crumpled and he fell knees down into the snow.

“You’re right,” she barely heard him say above the wind. “I have no one to blame but myself.”

Anna waited for him to say something else, to _do_ something else, but the prince remained catatonic in the snow. The wind continued to whip around them, spelling certain death if they didn’t do something quick.

Anna scrunched up her fists, taking a deep breath as her chest filled with rage.

“Get up! Get up right now!” she roared. “I am _not_ dying on a mountain side with you! You wanna live? Stop blaming me, stop blaming yourself, and just start _trusting_ me for once! And that starts with these so-called “riddles.” How many do we have left? Just the one? Hit me!”

Hans squinted at her in disbelief. “ _You’re_ going to solve the next riddle?” he deadpanned.

“Well, since you’ve apparently given up or whatever… yeah! I am!”

Hans sighed and then slowly picked himself up. Anna shivered in the relentless storm.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said. He closed his eyes and began to recite from memory: “The ravens watch o’er vale below. Not wind, nor rain, nor freezing snow, Make dent upon their noble beaks. Both guide and warning to he who seeks.”

Anna stared upwards, deep in concentration as the wind continued to roar past them.

“Alright! I’m going to be really honest with you!” Anna eventually said. “I have _no_ idea what that means!”

“For the love of—“ Hans smacked his forehead with his gloved palm. “Obviously its talking about stone markers! Stones either shaped or carved like ravens! Besides, I never said that I had trouble with any of the riddles themselves! It’s finding them that’s the problem! I had us make camp at that slight bend in the river, so they should’ve been straight up, but I can’t bloody see my hands let alone—”

“Stop! Stop complaining about stuff we can’t change! It’s not going to get us any closer to that cave! We just need to…” Anna paused as her words got ahead of her thoughts. “Wait here,” she said, grabbing the bag of sticks from him.

“Wait, where are you—“

Anna ignored the prince and tromped off to her right. She kept going until she felt the rope around her waist pull tight. She stopped and peered off through the snow.

Nothing.

She frowned and continued walking in a full circle, using the rope as her tether, moving uphill and then downhill and then back up again, searching for any sign of anything. She eventually came to a stop where she’d started.

Her earlier footprints were already being swallowed up by the falling snow.

Grinding her teeth in frustration but refusing to let her spirits be dampened, Anna slammed one of the sticks in the ground and then yanked her way forward, feeling Hans stumble distantly behind her.

“What are you doing?!” Hans yelled as Anna placed her second marker. He had chased after her, closing the distance between them; the rope trailed out uncoiled behind him.

“What you stopped,” she said simply.

Hans reached for the pack in her arms, but Anna dodged. He frowned.

“You’re hurt,” he said sternly.

“Yeah. And if I stop moving, I’ll be dead.”

“Anna, we can’t see a foot in front of our noses. There’s a full vertical mile from the base of this mountain to the top. What honestly makes you think we’ll be able to find the cave?!”

“You said it should be straight up from the camp, right? Well, a vertical mile’s still a straight line! So we’re bound to hit it eventually!”

“Anna, that’s not how that— This is crazy! _You’re_ crazy!”

“If that’s what it takes to keep me going, so be it!” Anna said with a small mocking salute. She was running off a dangerous combination of mild hysteria, adrenaline, and glee now. It frightened her, but Anna held onto the cocktail of emotions; it was the only thing still keeping her going. She’d be the mad girl who’d drag a complete stranger up to a clock tower for synchronized, woodwork dancing if that’s what it’d take for both of them to survive this.

She started trudging up the mountain again before Hans could argue further.

They kept going, up and up and up. It was even slower than before. Anna wasn’t as good as Hans at punching her feet down through the ice-crusted snow, and at every marker stop she’d wander on her tether a bit in both directions, searching…

There were only a few more sticks left in the pack when she spotted a faint smudge of grey out of the corner of her eye. It was tiny and blurry and when she turned to look it was gone, but it was something. Anna finished planting her marker and changed directions to head towards it.

As she got close enough to make it out, her hope fell.

The smudge was just a sharp rock, tall and pointy enough to stick out above the current snow fall by a foot. Anna was about to turn back around when something made her pause.

Sure, it was just a rock, but it was also the first thing that had caught her attention in hours. A speck of grey in a sea of white. She might as well examine out a bit more. Besides, they were quickly running out of markers; there wasn’t much left they could explore.

So she continued trudging closer to the rock. It was a very triangular rock.

“What now?” Hans said.

He’d come up behind her again. Anna heard him let out a groan as she knelt down.

“Really?” he said sarcastically. “I know we’re desperate, but if we’re going to stop to examine every rock on this mountain…”

Anna ignored him, running a gloved hand over the granite surface… and felt a distinct ridged pattern?

Her eyes widened.

“We’re never going to find it!” Hans was continuing to shout. “Ugh, I knew it! I just knew it! I never should’ve called—”

“Shut up!” Anna snapped.

She ripped off her glove. The wind blasted against her bare hand, but her fingers were past the point of numbness. She needed more dexterity, to really confirm that, yes, there were ridges with smooth, oval-shaped…

Carved feathers decorating the very tip of a wing.

Her breathe froze.

“This is it,” she whispered.

Somehow despite the howl and noise of the storm, Hans seemed to have heard her.

“What?”

“This is it!” she said, her face alight in rapture and voice cracking with snow-battered elation. “This rock! It’s one of the ravens’ wings! The cave! This is it! We’re here! It’s right below us!”

It took several second for Anna’s words to penetrate Hans’ brain and understanding to dawn. Once he did, the change was instantaneous. His face morphed. Gone was the hopelessness, the frustration, the vulnerability. In its place was a renewed sense of vigor, triumph, and — flashing so quickly Anna wondered if she’d just imagined it — the same sense of unrestrained conquest that’d consumed him as he stood over Elsa, his sword poised high… ready to strike…

All at once Anna was back on the fjord.

The storm was the same as it’d been then. Her hands… No, she couldn’t feel her hands anymore. Her heart ached, heavy and cold, threatening to drop straight through into her lungs. The ice was creeping up over her limbs and into her bones.

Hans was about to murder Elsa and she couldn’t move…

“Anna!”

Anna snapped out of her memories to see Hans vigorously digging in the snow with their ice axe. He looked up at her expectantly.

“I need your help! Come on!” he yelled, giving a sharp nod at the pack in her hands.

Right. The present. She had to keep herself in the present.

Anna rummaged around in the pack until her hands closed around a tiny shovel. It was better suited for gardening or latrine digging than full-on snow excavation, but it was better than using her hands. She set the pack down and got to work.

It seemed for every foot of snow they managed to dig up, the sky laid several new inches down, but they kept tunneling. They uncovered the rest of the wings first, then a stoic, avian face… and then, after shifting their dig a little to the side…

“The entrance!” Anna cried.

“I can see that,” Hans scoffed.

They quickly punch out a hole just wide enough to slip through. Anna peered into it, but couldn’t see anything but blackness. She shivered.

“After you,” Hans said with a sweep of his hand.

Anna frowned. “We don’t know how deep it goes though. What if it just goes down and down and down…?”

“That’s what the rope’s for,” Hans said smugly, giving her a slight tap on the waist. Anna blushed slightly and punched him lightly in return. She grabbed their pack and strapped it back on.

“Just be ready to catch, okay?” Anna said.

She eyed the black hole, mildly queasy. And then — before she could think about it too much — she slipped into the darkness.

Hans caught the rope before she gained too much momentum and slowly lowered her down. She hadn’t travelled very far at all before she felt her boots hit the bottom. When she was settled Anna looked up back up. A patch of light streaming down from the dark, snow-packed wall; it was only about seven or so feet up, the height of a regular doorway.

“It’s okay!” Anna called out. “It’s not too far down! You can jump if you just bend your knees!”

She waited blindly in the cave, peeling her gloves off and rubbing her hands in an attempt to regain some of their feeling. She was starting to doubt her fingers would ever work properly again. Half a minute later, Hans slid down, knocking a bit of snow loose, but otherwise landing gracefully on his feet.

Anna tried looking around the rest of the cave, but the light came from the small hole at the entrance and it didn’t illuminate much. God only knew how long they had until the storm reburied it. She searched in the pack until she found their spark rocks, grabbed one of the few remaining sticks, and made a small torch.

It worked but wouldn’t last more than ten minutes.

Anna glanced at Hans; the prince was untying the rope from his waist. Right, she should probably do that. She passed him the torch after his hands were free and did the same.

“After you, milady,” he said when she was done.

He gestured forwards into the gloom.

Anna snatched the torch back from him, took a deep breath, and made her way forward.

As far as she could tell so far, the cave looked like any other regular, ordinary cave. If it hadn’t been for the giant stone raven guarding its entrance, she would’ve doubted this was the right place.

It was kind of warm though. That was nice.

At the same time, the slow thaw caused Anna to realize just how wet she’d gotten. Ice and snow melted, turning her cloak and clothes into a soggy mess. Her boots had gained several pounds and made squelching noises as she walked.

A gust of air suddenly blasted through the chamber, blowing out the torch.

Anna froze as a line of runes shone brilliantly white across the floor. They streamed from the base of the left wall to the right, creating a solid line of light.

A line she’d just stepped over.

There was a soft groaning from somewhere beyond her vision, quickly rising in volume and pitch to become a terrible screech as the veins beneath her skin began to glow an icy blue.

“H-Hans?” Anna asked.

She watched him, her heart pounding in fright, as he bit his lower lip in pensive thought. She started to reach forward to shake him out of whatever mental fortress he’d entered, and then he stepped over the line as well.

At once his own veins glowed red-orange, their light sprawling across his neck and face and blending up into the color of his hair.

The noise grew even louder. The walls were starting to tremble.

“Hans, what—?”

“Ssh!” he commanded, pressing his hand to her mouth. He closed his eyes. “Very important. I need to think.“

The trembling intensified, as did Anna’s nervousness. What was it his riddle had said about warnings again? She was about to order him to hurry it up when his eyes snapped open again.

“Your knife,” he said tersely, holding out his hand.

“W-what?”

“I need it now,” he said. When she hesitated, confused, he looked her dead in the eye. “Do you trust me?”

Anna’s breath hitched.

She unstrapped the knife from her belt and passed it over. Hans withdrew the blade and grabbed her wrist, sharply wrenching it towards him.

“Hans, what are you— Ow!”

Anna cried out in pain as he slashed open the front of her palm. She stared in shock as he did the same to his own, and then clasped their two hands together. She bit her tongue as the wound began to throb. The colors of the blood beneath their skin slowly mingled, icy blue and burnt orange swirling into a strange, olive-y green tinge.

All the lights plunged out and the noise vanished.

Several seconds later, the ceiling of the cave flickered into life. Thousands of blue-green dots shone softly down from its surface like painted constellations.

Anna felt another sharp sting and looked down to see that Hans had let go of her hand. He stood a foot or so away, cutting off long strips from the bottom of his shirt.

“Told you I couldn’t do it without you,” he said. He nodded towards her hand and Anna held it out for him to bandage. She tried to ignore the delicate way his fingers handled hers as they brushed against each other, wincing only slightly when he pressed the cloth against her wound. “Sorry. But I _did_ tell you that there’d be a protective enchantment. That should be the only one though.”

“Should?”

“Well, the book didn’t mention any others and it hasn’t let us down this far.”

Anna actually took some comfort in that, little as it was.

Even though the ceiling lights illuminated a clear path forward, she had no idea how far they went or how long they’d last, so she dropped the blown-out torch back into her pack to save for later. Hans was still attempting to bandage his own hand; he’d sliced open his dominant hand and was having some difficulty.

She watched him struggle for several seconds before giving into temptation.

“Here. Let me do it,” she said, snatching the cloth from him. She kept her eyes away from his face and focused on his palm as she wrapped the cloth around it. She’d have to make sure both of them got _actual_ treatment later. If they managed to survive all this, and then keeled over from a basic infection… oh man, her ghost would be pissed.

“Thank you,” she heard Hans say as she tied the bandage off.

Anna’s cheeks flushed.

“It’s nothing,” she mumbled. A couple strands of hair had escaped her braids, and she brushed them behind her ear. She glanced in the direction the lights seemed to be leading them. “We should get going.”

Hans said nothing, but followed as she bounded off down the path. After a little bit, Anna slowed down so that he could catch up and walk side by side with her.

She told herself that it was simply nice being able to see your companions as you walked with them. A common courtesy. That was all.

The cave continued to twist and turn deep into the mountain. Despite the dampness of her clothes, Anna made her way forward with an eager spring in every step, swinging her arms back and forth with exuberance. Every so often her hands would knock into Hans’ on the backswings and she’d utter a small apology. For once he didn’t seem to mind.

Eventually, Anna was able to make out a rather different sort of glow from up ahead. It seemed brighter and bigger and slightly more… yellow than blue-green.

She skipped ahead to make it out better, letting go of Hans’ hand as she did so. She hadn’t even realized when her fingers had slipped between his.

Yep. It was _definitely_ a different type of glow than the current stuff on the ceiling.

Anna started to turn back around to tell Hans—


	9. Act One: Part Ten

Anna groaned.

Her head was throbbing like someone had just bashed the back open with a sledgehammer.

_“Anna…”_

The voice trickled in from somewhere distant. She scrunched her eyes tightly together and tried to ignore it, but it kept repeating itself, growing increasingly louder and annoying.

“Anna.”

She groaned again, finally mustering the strength to blearily blink open her eyes. The world was hazy, its lines non-existent and colors shifting. It made her head spin and her stomach heave. She pitched sideways, her gloved hands clawing against the ground in an futile attempt to hang on.

“Anna!”

There it was again. A worried, familiar voice…

The world finally righted itself.

Hans was leaning over her, one hand wrapped around her side while the other gently brushed her bangs from her face.

Anna was sitting with her back against the wall of the cave. Up above, the constellation-like lights still cast their phosphorescent light. The far end of the cave was still bathed in whatever mysterious golden glow awaited them.

She shifted and winced as pain tangled its way through her head like a giant ball of roots.

“What happened?” she croaked, barely managing the second word before dissolving into a coughing fit. Her throat was parched; it was hard to breathe…

“Another earthquake,” Hans said. He reached in their pack for a small skin of water and held it out to Anna who drank messily. “No idea whether it was from the storm or a leftover from the enchantment we broke. Whatever it was, it knocked several rocks loose. One hit you on the back of the head before I could warn you.” He took a deep breath. “You fell… and… you didn’t get up. I… I was…” Whatever Hans had been about to say, it was lost forever to the silence of the cave. He cleared his throat. “But you’re awake, which is good. Assuming you can still walk, we should keep moving. Before anything else happens.”

Anna paused halfway through wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

She glanced around the cave. She couldn’t remember whether she’d felt a tremor or not, but there were a bunch of small and medium-sized rocks scattered around now that hadn’t been there before. That and the golden glow of their ultimate destination still shone in the distance, pure and unaltered.

The thought that Hans had simply waited for her to wake up instead of running ahead to claim his prize was weird. Weird… but not entirely unwelcome either.

“You’re right,” Anna said. “Moving is a good idea.” She started to stand up, all too conscious of the way Hans hovered next to her in apparent concern. Her head still throbbed, but she did her best to ignore it.

They’d made it this far… to be so close…

Anna took a step and nearly fell all over again, her left knee exploding with pain. The bone felt cracked, although more likely it was just bruised; she must’ve landed on it when she fell. She inhaled shakily and started to shuffle her way forward, careful to keep most of her weight on her opposite knee.

“Do… Do you need me to carry you?” Hans asked, preemptively holding out his hands.

Anna stared at them and then at the muscular arms they were attached to. She bit her lip. It was rather tempting…

She shook her head.

“I got this.” She continued to limp forward, each frail step taking her closer and closer to the glow. “If all this earthquake nonsense starts up again though, you have my official permission to toss me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes and run,” she said with a smirk.

“Permission noted.”

Anna glanced at the prince, expecting a wry grin or some smug smile in return, but his face was blank and sobering. Her grin died.

She turned her attention forward again, puzzled.

Perhaps it was nerves. Perhaps Hans wasn’t _as_ sure about all the mysterious book’s claims as he thought he’d been. For not the first time, Anna wondered what would happen if they reached that final turn and found… well, nothing.

Technically it wasn’t a very hard question. They’d die, plain and simple.

If the cold of the blizzard didn’t kill them, the lack of food eventually would. Anna absent-mindedly wondered if they’d face the end together or if Hans would kill her and take up cannibalism in his desperation.

She shuddered in disgust at the thought.

The glow grew brighter still.

It was agonizing how slow she had to take it, and it was clear that Hans was getting restless as well. She could see it in the way his fingers twitched as he walked. Again, she debated the pros of him carrying her before deciding _again_ that no, she was going to have to get down the mountain eventually. Better to walk it off now.

They finally turned the last bend and Anna gasped.

The tunnel had led them to a small circular cavern with no other exits. In its center, a rather rough and unremarkable stone pedestal rose out of the ground. On it, bathing the room in a shimmering sheet of gold, rested a glowing, well…

A glowing rock.

“I think that’s it,” Anna said, pointing at it.

“Your powers of observation astound me.”

She peered at the glowing rock and took a couple steps closer.

“It’s a bit… small,” she said, rotating her hands for measurement. It was about the size of a child’s head. “You really think it has the power to get rid of this winter?”

“Would I have dragged us all the way here if I didn’t?”

Anna rolled her eyes at him. “Point taken,” she said.

She approached the pedestal slowly, careful and on high alert for any secret booby traps, but the room was silent. Even her footsteps were muffled as she made her way towards the pedestal.

Power or not, the stone certainly was otherworldly. Other shiny things had a surface. Even crystals that you could see through were still… _there_. The stone, by contrast, seemed to be made of pure light. Pure light that had somehow been captured and then squeezed and squeezed into something stone-like.

As she stared at it from straight above, Anna wasn’t sure she’d even be able to grab it. It seemed more likely that her fingers would just pass through.

She reached out a hand to try and then paused.

Bad things happened to people who just touched things. Innocent and lovely as it seemed, this stone was no different.

“Something wrong?” Hans asked as if by cue, coming over to stand next to her.

Anna bit her lip.

“How do I know this stone does what you say it does?” Anna asked. “What if it’s a stone that kills people? Or no! What if it does what you say it does but there’s one more secret protection that zaps me into small explody bits” — she mimed the explosion with waggling fingers — “and then as I’m falling into little chunks on the floor you’re free to pick it up and waltz right out of here?!”

Hans gave her a Look.

“If you’re that concerned,” he said with a sigh. “ _I’ll_ pick it up.”

He reached out to grab the stone with both hands.

“Wait!” Anna yelled.

Hans flinched. He remained frozen in place, his fingers barely an inch from the stone’s surface. Anna watched as he raised an eyebrow at her, annoyance carved clear across his face.

“What- What if it actually gives magical powers to first person who touches it and you suddenly gain all the cosmic forces of the universe?”

Hans stared at her.

“And then with that you would fly back to our kingdoms and leave me here all sad and unmagical?”

He continued to stare at her.

“Anna,” he said. “You’re being ridiculous. If _you_ can’t pick up the stone and _I_ can’t pick up the stone, what do you suggest we do?”

Anna pondered that. Then it hit her.

“We pick it up together,” she said with a grin.

“Together?”

“Yep! Either we both die or we both get powers or — better yet — nothing happens at all.”

“You know… of the three, I’m fine with either the powers or the nothing, but I fail to see how both of us dying accomplishes anything.”

“We’re picking it up together,” she said firmly.

“Alright! Alright!” Hans stared at Anna seriously. “Together then.”

They stood across from each other, their hands placed at equal distance from the stone. Anna looked up at Hans. He seemed a lot more self-assured than she did. She hoped her paranoia was just that.

Paranoia.

“Ready?” Anna said. “One… two… three!”

Her hands snapped out and she scrunched her eyes shut, fearing the worst. Her fingers landed on cool, solid stone. She held them there in place for one second… two…

Slowly Anna cracked open one eyelid. Then the other.

The room was exactly how she’d last left it. She and Hans were both holding onto the stone and nothing had happened.

“I don’t know,” Hans said, glancing at the stone. “I might be getting cosmic energy as we speak? I’m not sure. Any idea what it’s supposed to feel like?”

“Oh, you can just shut it,” Anna muttered. She yanked the stone out of his hands, stumbling backwards slightly at the weight. “We’re safe. We have the stone. That’s the important part.”

They had the stone.

Anna looked down at where it lay cradled in her hands.

Was that really it?

She’d expected something a little more climatic to be honest. But at the same time, she wasn’t about to argue with the universe to chuck some more snowballs at them just because things were starting to feel easy.

“Here,” Anna said holding the stone out to Hans. “Hold it for a second.”

She passed it to him and swung their pack off her shoulders. There weren’t too many things in it, but she dumped them out all the same so that stone wouldn’t crush them. Hans gently lowered the stone into the pack and Anna piled their supplies back on top of it. Without the stone to cast its light, the room was a lot darker.

After tying up the top flap, Anna hauled it back onto her shoulders with a great heave. The new weight pulled her back slightly and she teetered a bit as she fought to keep her balance. Her knee continued to throb.

“Are you sure you got it?” Hans asked in a tone that blatantly presumed she didn’t.

“Yeah,” she managed, though slightly breathless at the exertion. “It’s all downhill from here, right? Well, literally downhill. Not metaphorically downhill. Well, I guess it could be metaphorically downhill but, I mean, I really hope it isn’t and—”

“Anna,” Hans said, interrupting her in mid-ramble.

“Hmm?” She blinked at him, waiting for the inevitable jibe.

He stared at her briefly and then snorted. In the haziness of the cave, she thought she saw him smile.

“Let’s go home.”

* * *

Anna blinked in the harsh afternoon sunlight. Whatever magic the stone possessed, it was already starting to do its job. The wall of snow that’d blocked the entrance of the cave had fully melted, although the mountain itself was still blanketed in the stuff.

To be honest, even after reaching the cave, finding the stone… she hadn’t quite fully expected it to actually _work_.

“You doubted me?”

Anna belatedly realized she’d said that last part out loud and blushed.

“Who wouldn’t?” she murmured.

She gazed out across the horizon. The blizzard had dissipated where they were standing, but she could see still it raging on to the north. White billowing clouds stretched their way from the forest floor up and up into the sky as far as her eyes could track. They crashed against an invisible wall that curved inwards in either direction, creating a protective bubble with her and Hans at the very center.

Anna readjusted her pack, the weight of the stone inside simultaneously reassuring and unsettling.

If all they had to do was walk and let the stone take care of the rest… It was scarcely believable, but hey.

That was magic for you.

“You know,” Anna said cheerfully. “I don’t know if I can manage the idea of _not_ traveling through a storm of death with hungry wolves on our tail and God only knows what else. Think we’ll be able to handle it?”

She glanced sideways at him when she didn’t get a reply.

Hans was staring out at the vertical wall of clouds, his face blank and eyes distant. If he’d heard her, he was doing a good job of hiding it.

“Hans?” Anna asked. Her brow creased slightly with worry.

“We should get moving,” he said, not looking at her as he spoke. “Once the snow fully melts, it will make it harder to get down.”

Anna’s eyes widened. A sudden tightness formed in her chest as Hans brushed past her, carelessly knocking aside her shoulder.

Something was wrong.

She lingered in the mouth of the cave, her fingers clutched tight around the straps holding her pack — and the heavy stone inside. The back of Hans’ head gradually shrunk as he grew further and further away.

Eventually he turned around, one eyebrow quirked in annoyance.

“Come on!” he called back with a slight scowl. “Before the sun sets and we have to make camp on this blasted mountain.”

When Anna didn’t immediately reply, he let out a sigh of frustration and kept going.

Anna mentally shook her head, knocking her brain to snap out of it.

This was simply who Hans was. Who he’d always been and always would continue to be. She really shouldn’t have expected anything different and the fact that she… well, the fact that she’d begun to hope he still had some teeny tiny kernel of human decency beneath it all was testament to just how harrowing of a journey they’d been through.

Nothing was wrong. She was just exhausted and delusional.

Yes. That was it.

If Elsa had been there, she’d probably even praise Anna for her slow, yet final, return to sanity.

Anna took a deep breath and lifted her foot to take the first official step of many towards home. Towards a place where things would finally make sense again.

She glanced down at the snow right before her boot crunched into it…

And paused.

A line of footsteps extended outwards, connecting the mouth of the cave to Hans himself. From a distance, they looked like any other footprints in the snow, but from straight-above she could see right down to the bottom, where his boots had crushed the soft powder into hard, creviced ice.

It was black.

Anna shifted the weight of her pack a bit, so she could balance on one leg to look at the sole of her own boot. It was also black.

She scrunched her nose in puzzlement and swiped a finger across the rubber. The blackness clung to it. Anna frowned, then rubbed it and her thumb against each other, watching as the blackness fell away.

Ash.

Anna glanced back into the darkness of the cave.

She couldn’t help but feel that there’d been something else in that book. Amidst all the maps and riddles. Something that Hans was still hiding.

A small breeze curled around her and she shivered.

The stone’s weight hung heavily against her back. All she had was Hans’ word that the stone did what he said it did, that it’d do what he said it would, that he wouldn’t tie her up and run as soon as they reached Sitron again…

Anna looked again at the vertical wall of storm clouds. The world stopped at that wall. Everything beyond was a barren wasteland of ice and death.

In the end, Hans’ true motives were a secondary concern. Whatever he had planned, whatever the stone’s true powers were… it was stopping that. It was parting the clouds and returning the sun. People were dying, and she was carrying the power to save them.

She pushed all her other doubts to the side and took her first official step home. And then her next. And her next, until she was soon leaving her own ashen trail in the snow.

* * *

As much as Hans had grumbled about not making it off the mountain before dark, the two arrived at  camp with hours left of sunlight.

After both the climb and the decent, Anna was exhausted, but she couldn’t just sit there and burn time while people were still freezing to death up north. With only some minor needling, she got Hans to help her pack up their meager camp and they were off.

Rather than tie the pack to Sitron’s side, Anna held it in her lap as they rode. She ignored the solid feel of Hans’ chest against her back, the occasional warm puff of breath on her neck, and kept her mind focused solely on the mission. Focused on the stone wedged snugly between her legs.

The valley river was already starting to swell with the melting snow, but the great tree they’d used as a bridge was still there. They crossed with minimal effort and began trudging up towards the ridge on the other side.

The sun was dipping low and red as they approached the top of the ridge, so they stopped as soon as they found an acceptable area and set up a new camp.

The skies had cleared with them as they travelled, the world thawing with each step. By the time Anna finished setting up their usual two-tarped tent, the snow had completely melted from their small clearing, transforming the ground into a squelchy brown and green mess.

Anna grimaced as she slowly gathered an armful sticks and branches in the muck and attempted to find the least miry spot to make a fire. The ground was wet. The wood was wet. The cut on her hand still occasionally stung from beneath its bandage. If she could get anything to spark, she’d consider herself a goddess.

Hans came back with several rabbits while she was still struggling to ignite the pile.

“Here,” he said, holding out the dead carcasses. “Switch.”

Anna raised an eyebrow at the curt demand, but tossed the spark rocks over. She was about to wish him a snide “good luck” when he scraped them together and the twigs instantly ignited.

“Seems like not all of us have the touch,” he said with a tiny smirk. His first since the cave.

Anna let out a big huff. “Well,” she said. “It’s always easy when someone else does all the actual work first.”

“The _actual_ work?”

“My attempts dried them out.”

“Sure they did.”

Anna rolled her eyes in response and plopped herself down on a nearby rock to skin Hans’ catch.

Although she’d never admit it to his face, she was glad to hear his sarcasm again. It still annoyed her to no end, but his sudden distance over the past couple of hours had been even more — was still — unsettling.

And her reaction to that made no sense.

Days ago, his silence would’ve thrilled her. She would’ve been thrilled that she wouldn’t have to interact with the slimy jerk. That she could’ve pretended for hours and hours that he wasn’t even there.

But now…

Anna tried to tell herself it was nothing as she stripped the rabbits from their furs. The two of them still had a long journey ahead. If Hans played the part of a paralyzed mime for the rest of it, she’d die of boredom.

Her feelings were as simple as that.

She hissed as she squeezed a bit too hard on the dagger with her injured hand. After she had the two carcasses cleaned and roasting on a spit, Anna examined her cut. Her blood had stained through a bit of bandage; it’d be good to re-bandage the wound before she went to bed that night.

Hans was sitting on the other edge of the fire and fiddling with a bit of the trapping wire. If his cut was bothering him like hers was, he didn’t show it.

Anna coughed. “I can’t believe it’s already gotten so warm this quickly,” she said as she turned their makeshift spit, letting the other sides cook a bit. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“Hmm,” Hans said. “So it is.”

Anna’s stomach dropped.

“I mean,” she tried again. She forced a chuckle. “It feels like, what, April? And it was pure December-ish this morning, so by that rate we should be back to July by midnight!”

“I suppose.”

Anna frowned. Hans wasn’t paying any attention to her at all. The prince stared straight ahead into the heart of the fire, the flicker of the ever-shifting flames reflected in his eyes.

“And then,” Anna said rather loudly. “Since we’re obviously rushing through seasons so quickly, I guess it’ll all be for nothing and we’ll be back to December by the following nightfall again.”

Hans’ eyes snapped to hers. “What do you want?”

“Me?” Anna’s face flushed an indignant red. “I want—” She took a deep breath. Her thoughts were threatening to spiral out of control and her tongue along with it. “I want to get home,” she said. “I want to be free of annoying back-stabbing jerks. That’s what.”

They stared at each other.

“Good,” Hans finally said.

“Good,” Anna spat.

“And watch the rabbits, they’re starting to burn.”

“Fine!” she yelled before pausing. “Wait, what? Oh, no no no!”

Anna shoved all thoughts of Hans to the back of her mind as she raced to get the rabbits off the fire. Once they were safe, she glared at him like it was his fault that they’d almost gotten charred.

Because it _was_ his fault for distracting her.

“Here,” she said, snapping the spit and thrusting one half in his face.

Anna sat down and tore into her rabbit, ripping off jagged chunks with her bare teeth. She chewed in silence. She was frustrated at him. Frustrated at herself for letting him frustrate her.

But as much as she’d always wished she could dish out the cool, silent treatment like Elsa, Anna had always been terrible at keeping her mouth shut. She itched to talk and if Hans didn’t feeling like talking back, she’d fill his ears with whatever nonsense she wanted.

“You know the first thing I’m going to do when I get back?” Anna said. “Well, other than jump in a hot sauna forever and ever and ever… Okay, I’m not sure the southern kingdoms even _have_ saunas, but still— Oh! And I’ll be able to meet up with Maximus and Thomas and the other guards again! Now that the snow’s gone, I’m going to feed him every apple in the kingdom. Both kingdoms. More than both kingdoms… How many kingdoms are there between Corona and Stralshagen again? Whatever, I’ll just feed him apples from all of them.

“Oh my gosh! And I just remembered: Rapunzel’s birthday is coming up! Ugggh, I know it was at _least_ a month away before this whole storm started, but I have not been keeping track of days. Have you? What if we take too long getting back and I completely miss it?!

“Alright, alright, I know. That is _wayyyy_ not the most important thing going on right now. I mean, now that I think about it, I’m not even sure there’s going to _be_ party after this storm. Arendelle had to ration some stuff after Elsa’s whole thing due to the crops freezing and all, and that was just after two days!

“Oh, or maybe they’d have a party in spite of the storm? Like a kingdom-wide celebration with her lanterns as symbols of hope and working together-ness. I think that’d work pretty well. Oh, right. Hans, do you know about the lantern ceremony?

“I’ve never seen myself, but I hear it’s just _amazing_ to see. The entire city gets together and makes these paper lanterns and then at sunset they all gather to—”

“I know about the lanterns,” Hans said. “God. Every royal kid grew up knowing about the lanterns.”

“Well, _excuse_ me,” Anna said. “I was only making sure. My bad. Anyways, I just think it’d be rather peaceful, you know? After all the chaos, to just look up into the night sky and see thousands and thousands of lights twinkling in the summer breeze? I really think it could give a lot people closure and—”

“Why are you always so damn cheerful?!” he snapped.

Anna stared at him in shock.

Hans looked down right venomous. His nostrils flared in time with his heavy breathing, and the sharp slant of his eyebrows twisted his face into something dark and pained.

Anna’s mouth dropped slightly as she tried to figure out what to say. To figure out there’d been something that she’d said. It was all so confusing. _He_ was confusing.

“Hans,” she finally said. “I know something’s wrong. Something that you’re not telling me. You can trust me. Please.”

“It’s nothing,” he bit out. He’d finished his meal awhile ago and was now poking at the fire with the stick it’d been cooking on. “Nothing at all.”

“But—”

“Just keep talking about your silly horses and apples and birthday parties since you love them so much.”

Anna squinted at him, still completely lost… and then she suddenly understood.

At least, she thought she did.

After they returned to Stralshagen and brought back summer, Anna got to waltz off into the sunshine and pick up her life from where she’d left it. She’d get to explore and celebrate and do all the wonderful things she’d been planning to do.

Hans got to return to his tower cell.

She frowned in an odd mixture of guilt and vindication.

Hans had made his choices just as she’d made hers. The thirteenth prince of the Southern Isles was hardly an innocent man condemned to an unjust fate.

Anna hesitated before reaching out with her free hand. For a moment she thought he was about to shift away, but then he stilled and her hand rested gently over his knee.

“Hans, I…” Anna began uncertainly.

What could she do? Apologize? Apologize for what? If anything, he was the one that still need to apologize to _her_.

Would she try to blindly tell him that everything would turn out okay? Oh, yeah. She knew he’d be _real_ receptive to that.

“I just… I’m here for you,” Anna ultimately said. She closed her eyes. “Regardless of whether you want me to be or not. Whether you hate me or not. If you ever need help… I’m here.”

Anna glanced up, hoping for… well, she didn’t know exactly what. His face was impassive, unreadable.

Hans cleared his throat.

“We- We should refill the water skins,” he muttered.

He grabbed the skins and stalked off from the clearing, pushing between two bushes before vanishing.

Anna blinked at the empty spot he’d left. She turned to Sitron for some sort of guidance or insight, but Sitron merely snorted and tossed his head, the beast’s confusion clearly mimicking her own.

So she sat alone in the muggy darkness, picking off the remaining scraps of her rabbit.

A half hour or so later, Hans returned and tossed her one of the water skins. Anna ventured a smile which he didn’t return.

That was the extent of their interaction.

As Anna used the water to help wipe clean her dagger, she found herself yawning. The quicker they got to bed, the quicker they could start off again. Anna tried not to think of the farmers still shivering up north in their small houses… of Rapunzel and her family trapped in their great castle… Hans’ brothers… and Elsa…

Anna prayed that Elsa had stayed put for once. The last thing she needed when this was all over was a report about Elsa rushing over to Corona in the storm and vanishing en route. Anna would have to start another quest all over again. Hans would probably have to join her for reasons unknown.

It’d be one giant cosmic joke and she’d be the punch line.

Anna wrapped her cloak tighter around herself.

Despite the temperate night air, there was a still a lingering chill in the breeze. Although she’d gotten along fine before, sleeping alone was suddenly not the inviting prospect it once was.

She wondered.

Anna took a deep breath and yawned loudly, stretching her arms up towards the invisible tree tops. “Well,” she said with only a meager attempt to stifle a second yawn. “I think it’s just about time for me to hit the hay.”

She peered at Hans out of the corner of her eye, attempting to remain inconspicuous. Her efforts didn’t seem to matter; the prince had his eyes locked on the fire again.

“That’s nice.”

It was all he said.

Anna frowned. “I take it you’ll… be sleeping out here?” she asked. She didn’t want to seem pushy, but—

“Yes.”

She cleared her throat awkwardly. “You sure you’ll be fine?” she tried again. Her final, somewhat embarrassing and revealing attempt. “I mean, it’s still a bit cold. And a bit wet. Wet and cold… It’s not gonna be very pleasant without a tarp.”

“I’m sure.”

Anna’s face fell. She grabbed the main pack and stalked off towards the tent before she continued to babble things she just knew she’d regret in the morning.

She accidentally tossed the pack in with her bad hand and hissed at the resulting sting.

Right.

The re-bandaging.

Anna cut some new strips from the cleanest bits of her clothes with the dagger and then flinched as she unwrapped the old, dirty cloth from her palm; some of the fibers had stuck to the wound. There was no way any of this was sterile. She bit her lip in concentration as she clumsily tied the new wrappings. It was difficult doing it with only one hand…

She paused.

Hans had struggled the same difficulty. Not only that but he’d need the dagger.

As soon as she’d knotted the ends, she poked her head out of the shelter. Hans was still sitting next to the fire.

“Hey!” she called, almost brandishing the dagger at him before she realized what that’d look like. “You want help changing the bandages for your hand?”

He looked up at her, sighed, and then turned back to the fire. “No,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”

Anna frowned.

She took a deep breath and strode over to him. “Well,” she said, holding out the dagger. “You’re going to need this if you want…”

Her frown deepened as she caught sight of his hand. The wrappings around it were loose, nearly falling off. She sighed in exasperation.

“Look, if you’re not going to change them,” she said, reaching out her hand, “you need to at least keep them—”

“Stop!” he snapped. He yanked his hand from her grasp. “I don’t need your help!”

Anna froze.

Her fingers hung uselessly in the air.

“R-right,” she finally managed. She nodded to herself. “Right.”

Anna retreated back to the shelter, her face burning. As she kicked off her boots, she tried to focus all the positive things they’d accomplished that day instead of whatever it was that was peeling away at her heart.

She lied down on the tarp’s surface; it was damp and lumpy and not at all comfortable by any definition of the word. Then she sat up and opened the top flap of her pack.

The stone’s light washed the interior of the shelter in a gentle gold. She flexed her hand, checking her fingers for any potential lingering frostbite damage. Everything looked and felt okay though, so it seemed doubtful.

Anna flipped the pack shut, and the tent plunged back into darkness. She pulled the pack close to her and closed her eyes.

As had become tradition, Anna found it difficult to get to sleep. Tonight, she decided to blame her restlessness on the constant nights of hard ground. Rocks and mud were no substitute for the feathers she’d grown up with.

Yes, it was definitely her back keeping her awake.

When Anna finally got back to Corona, she’d have Rapunzel make her up the best bed in the kingdom. Then she’d be able to bury herself in fluffy pillows and maybe everything would start being okay again.


	10. Act One: Part Eleven

The next morning was warm, almost too warm; Anna stuffed her coat into the pack before they headed out. She rode for most of the day’s journey while Hans alternated between sharing the saddle behind her and walking on foot. As much as Anna liked to imagine Hans’ sense of chivalry behind it all, she knew it really came down to simple practicality. Her ankle and knee still hurt from the previous days, and the boggy, water-soaked ground wasn’t making travel any easier.

Halfway across an alpine meadow, Hans paused.

“What is it?” Anna whispered as Sitron gently nudged his master’s back.

“Do you hear something?” he asked.

The last time one of them had heard something, a mountain had collapsed on top of them. Anna kept quiet, straining to hear whatever noise Hans apparently did. She closed her eyes, hoping that would increase her ears’ sensitivity.

“Nope,” she finally said. She peered at him, curious. “You do?”

“I’m… not sure…”

Several days ago, she would’ve cracked a joke at his expense. Now she simply made a soft “hmm” in the back of her throat before coaxing Sitron forward. If it _was_ something dangerous, it’d be best to keep moving.

They made it a few more steps before Anna began to hear the noise as well. It was a soft rumbling, tiny at first but steadily rising until both the air and the ground beneath Sitron’s feet shook.

The noise morphed into a wordless holler.

Anna turned in her saddle, her eyes wide as she searched for the source. It didn’t sound like an avalanche, and it couldn’t possibly be wolves…

Her eyes were drawn to the nearby forest they’d emerged from. A giant burst from the tree line.

Anna screamed as Sitron whinnied in fright.

“No! No!” bellowed a familiar voice. “I does not wish to harm yous!”

Anna regained control of her breath and squinted at the approaching figure. It was draped in massive dark-brown furs. Two horns protruded from its head. It was riding a massive steed, its arms thick with muscles as they clutched the reins. As she looked, it dropped them to wave at her frantically.

Then, a dazzling smile.

“Vladimir?” Anna said hesitatingly. As the man rode closer, she was able pick out more and more familiar detail. She perked up. “Vladimir!”

Several seconds later the rest of her missing party emerged from the trees.

Vladimir reached the two of them first, barely managing to stop his horse in time before it collided with Sitron. They weren’t close enough to hug, but Vladimir ruffled the top of her head affectionately.

“Anna!” Caldwell called out as he approached.

“We had no idea whether or not you survived!” another said.

They slowed, circling around her in the sun-draped meadow.

“Whether I survived?” Anna cried. “I had no idea whether or not any of _you_ survived!”

“We tried to dig our way through to you but the cave started shaking!”

“We had to turn around and—”

“You don’t know how relieved I am to see you well, Princess!” Rogir said from behind the others.

“—nearest pass was over a day’s ride away, and—”

“Oh, the storm! It kept getting worse and worse! We couldn’t get over!”

“—and then we just felt like total failures!”

Anna beamed as the men swarmed around her, voicing both apologies and congratulations.

“Well, I felt just terrible too,” she said. “You don’t know how hard it was for me to keep going without you.”

“You made the right decision, Princess,” Thomas said, nudging his horse through the semi-circle that the others had formed around her. “I assume, based on this weather, that you were successful in your quest.”

“Yes, I…” Anna trailed off as she spotted Hans standing unsurely off to the side. He was looking at the ground, looking at the sky, looking at… well, everywhere except Anna and the others. She took a deep breath. “Hans and I managed to get the stone. I couldn’t have done it with out him,” she added with a smile.

Hans glanced at her briefly, almost disinterestedly, before turning back away. An awkward silence descended as they all stared at him.

Thomas gave a small cough. “Thank you for helping the princess,” he stuffily managed.

Hans shrugged. “What was I supposed to do?” he said, his voice lilting and careless. “Let everyone, including myself, freeze to death?”

Anna frowned. Hans was completely selling himself short. But if that was the way he wanted to play it, she wasn’t about to pick up the slack and start waxing poetic for him.

The rest of her guards began to chatter, the men surprisingly giddy with relief for how rugged and brawny half of them were. At one point, Anna opened up their pack to show them the golden stone and they all let out the appropriate “oohs” and “aahs”.

As the sun continued its gradual descent into the western half of the sky, Thomas pulled out a map and showed her where the secondary mountain pass was located. Since they’d lost the mare, the guards drew sticks to see who’d have to share their horse with Hans for the first leg of the journey home. Caldwell lost, and he did _not_ look happy about it.

Then they set off, Anna being slowly herded towards the front of the party while Hans was herded towards the rear.

Anna glanced back, her heart fluttering with a little bit of hope and more than a bit of anxiety. It wasn’t like she was expecting anything in particular… Really she wasn’t. And yet…

She tried smiling at Hans again, tried to catch his attention without outright flapping her arms in desperate frustration, but he wasn’t even looking in the right direction to notice.

“Princess? Princess Anna?”

Anna snapped to attention to see another one of her guards beaming at her. He wanted to hear more about the mountain she’d climbed and the mysterious cave towards the top. Anna obliged him, embellishing several details for dramatic effect. Several of those details spawned more questions which had her thinking back for even _more_ details, and just like that her attention was diverted for the rest of the day.

* * *

Summer was back in full force for Stralshagen, the days outright scorching and its nights breezeless and humid.

Initially, Anna had thought there’d be some other requirement left to fill, something she’d have to do to unleash the stone’s true power. But by the time they’d reached Stralshagen, there hadn’t been a storm cloud in sight. The streets had cheered and the steward had attempted to throw them all a multi-day feast in celebration before realizing that, even with the return of summer, his kingdom’s rations were running dangerously low.

After two weeks, crops lay dead and soggy in their fields. Granaries were empty. The ground had finally thawed, making it possible to start digging the graves for the countless dead. Anna and Hans had prevented the kingdom from falling into total destruction, but even the most powerful of magic couldn’t turn back time on the damage it’d already done.

Anna knew she should’ve continued straight back to Corona, but she was exhausted. She’d asked the steward send a messenger bird to her aunt and cousin before promptly collapsing on the nearest bed.

Just a few days of not walking and not riding and not _anything_. That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it?

The people of the Southern Isles hadn’t left yet either. Hans’ brothers spent their days working on logistics. A couple of their ships had been damaged in the storm, so their re-migration would have to be done in several trips. Anna didn’t think it was that much of a problem to be solved, but the brothers sure made it seem so.

The brothers argued back and forth over only God knew what during the day and through the night… Anna wouldn’t have been surprised if all they all went to bed and continued to argue in some sort of shared dream state.

Normally she wouldn’t have cared what they did, but ever since her return, many of the princes had become more… _receptive_ towards her for lack of a better word. They listened when she spoke and actively sought out her opinion.

That on its own would’ve been fine… if there hadn’t been ten of them, and if they hadn’t all possessed an annoying habit of twisting whatever she said to fit their personal agendas.

She was currently involved in one such debacle.

“Carpenters take precedence over teachers!” Georg shouted, jutting out his stomach in some sort of display of masculine dominance. “Anna said so herself.”

“I don’t think I ever—” Anna attempted.

“You said that selection based on necessity was better than selection by random generation, did you not?”

“Well, I guess I might’ve, but…”

Anna shrank back as the room exploded into noise, each brother fighting to hear themselves over the other. As she started twisting her fingers in secondhand embarrassment, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

A warm smile and face dusted with freckles greeted her. Fritz. The third-youngest.

“Want to get some air?” he asked.

Anna smiled in return. “I don’t know,” she said. “Think they can go on without me?”

They both studied the room and its current cacophony.

“I think they’ll manage,” Fritz said.

Anna let out a sigh of relief as soon as they escaped the hall. She felt another tap on the shoulder, and suddenly an apple was being held in front of her face.

She blinked. “What’s this?”

Fritz flashed her a smile. “Just a sweet gift for an even sweeter princess.”

Anna found herself blushing and rolling her eyes at the same time.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it.

Fritz shook his head. “No, Anna. I’m the one who should be thanking you. What you did for everyone was truly amazing.”

Anna blushed further. “Oh, I don’t know. I had a lot of help,” she said with a shrug. “If it wasn’t for Hans…”

She felt a slight pressure on her upper arm as Fritz slipped his hand gently around it. He took a step closer to her.

Her eyes widened. “Fritz?”

“Don’t even think about Hans,” he said, suddenly way way way way _way_ too close. Anna could count every single freckle smattered across his nose and cheeks. “I know the two of you have history together, but he’s not _nearly_ worthy enough for you.”

Anna turned beet red, her eyebrows shooting up above her bangs. Fritz moved his face closer to hers, and she quickly ducked and twisted out of his grasp.

“I… um, thank you. So much,” she stammered, taking backwards steps down the hallway. “But there are… preparations! I need to see to, and yeah. Love to chat, but I really gotta go!”

She fled.

Anna, Crown Princess of Arendelle, Junior Member of Arendelle’s Consulate to Corona, hero and vanquisher of the June Blizzard, fled.

She didn’t slow down until she was passing by one of the doors that led to one the castle’s many parapets. With the return of summer, the parapets were the breeziest spots in the whole city and always relatively unpopulated: a perfect combo. Glancing around the hallway to make sure she hadn’t been following, Anna pushed open the door with her free hand and froze.

A red-headed man was standing about halfway down the parapet. Anna winced in exasperation at having to deal with yet _another_ brother and was about to figure out some other place to retreat to when she realized the man was Hans.

True to his own pessimistic predictions, Hans had been placed right back under house arrest as soon as they’d arrived. Well, sort of house arrest. He was allowed to wander certain portions of the castle now instead of being locked in the cramped room she’d originally found him in. He still scowled whenever his brothers passed by though. And mostly ignored her.

Steeling herself for whatever might happen this time, Anna tromped forward until they were standing side by side. Then she leaned against the nearest stone and let out a heavy sigh.

“Your brother just tried to hit on me,” she said to the breeze. She looked at the apple still cradled in her hands. “Gave me this as a present and then…”

Anna frowned, not wanting to describe the next part.

Hans was stiff and silent beside her. As usual. And then—

“Fascinating,” he said. “And you? Is a single apple enough to win your heart?”

Anna snorted, about to tell him ‘as if,’ but suddenly changed her mind. “I don’t know,” she said, lips quirking. “Maybe it is.”

It was a small joke, teasing him to try and lighten the mood, but Hans seemed to miss the humor. Anna sighed. She returned her attention to the apple, turning it over and over in her hands. As her fingers moved across its surface, something itched in the back of her head.

Something about its color didn’t seem entirely… right.

Hans suddenly snatched the apple from her hands and took a large bite out of it.

“Hey!” she said. “That was mine.”

Hans shrugged. “Depending on the giver, you’re better off without it,” he said between crunches. “Which one was it?”

Anna sighed. “Guess.”

“Hmm…” As the hum rumbled against his throat, Anna felt her heart race slightly before spreading out into a calming warmth. “Well, the ones who’d actually have enough confidence to try anything would be either Leon or Fritz. But if we’re getting into who actually has the biggest crush on you? Have to say Manfried. Definitely Manfried.”

Anna turned to stare at him. “Which one was Manfried again?”

“The pasty one who’s always agreeing with whatever Georg says.”

Anna blanched as the relevant memory rushed back. “Euck!” she said, fingers curling into the stone. “Really?! Him?”

“Now, Princess,” Hans said with condescending lilt. “That’s not a very nice way to react. People can’t help how they feel.”

“But he’s like… twice my age!”

“Oh, he’s not _that_ old… even if he can look it at times. He’s thirty-four.”

“Thanks. That makes me feel _so_ much better. I’ll be sure to hand you the wedding invitations by Tuesday.”

Hans snorted in laughter. He glanced at her, and their eyes locked.

For a moment everything was perfect. A slight breeze had finally picked up, and it twined past the two of them. The sun was beginning to set, casting the entire sky in purple. If he’d only…

Hans was the one to break away first. He cleared his throat and went straight back to staring at the town of Stralshagen below.

“When are you heading back again?” he asked, his tone brusque and impersonal.

“Oh, umm…” Anna fiddled with a strand of hair at her ear. “Tomorrow actually.”

“Tomorrow?!”

He looked up at her with such alarm that she half-felt the need to apologize.

“Yeah, that is… I talked it over with Thomas and the others last night. We really should’ve gone days ago, but we just needed the rest.”

“Have you told my brothers yet?”

Anna shook her head. “I was going to do it at dinner tonight,” she said.

Hans smirked. “Well, at the very least it’ll be entertaining. I’ll tell them to cancel the post-dinner musicians.”

Anna smiled, but it was at odds with the sudden tension in her stomach. She felt like she should say something. That she had to say something. It wasn’t forgiveness; she didn’t think she’d really ever be able to forgive Hans for what he’d put her and her sister through, but this was something different from forgiveness…

“Hans?” She nervously cleared her throat. “I just wanted to say… we… that is, as a team… We weren’t half bad, were we?”

Hans smiled, and like hers there seemed to be an undercurrent of sadness mixed in with it.

“No,” he said. “I suppose we weren’t.”

Anna bit her lip. “Do you think—”

“Princess Anna!”

Both their heads snapped toward the door of the castle. Thomas was standing there, his hands clasped dutifully to his sides.

“My apologies for interrupting, your highness,” he said. “But we need you to review our planned route for the journey home.”

Anna blushed. She glanced at Hans, giving him a sort of apology shrug.

“Talk to you some other time?” she ventured.

Hans grinned.

“We’ll see.”

* * *

Anna, Rapunzel, and Eugene stared at the glowing stone resting innocently on a pedestal in its new home in one of Corona’s royal vaults.

“So,” Anna said. “We just… leave it here?”

“That’s the idea,” Rapunzel said.

Anna glanced around the windowless room. They were about five levels underground; there weren’t any doors other than the one they entered from. A number of other priceless objects were stored on surrounding pedestals and in glass cases: necklaces, tiaras, scepters… Anna knew the stone would be just as heavily protected as everything else, but—

“Are you sure it won’t be safer Arendelle?” Anna asked. “I mean, not that I’m doubting your guards, but Elsa—”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Eugune said, cutting her off with a sharp wave of his hands. “Think about this for a moment. You want to bring this stone to Queen Elsa?”

Anna blinked at him.

“Yeah?”

“You want to bring this stone to your magical sister?”

“Yeah,” Anna repeated, mildly irritated this time.

“This anti-magic stone to your magical sister?”

“Yeah, I— Oh…”

Anna fell silent.

That had been Hans’ original goal, hadn’t it? To use the stone as a way to defeat her sister? Anna hope he’d moved past that after everything they’d struggled through, but it was still frustrating that the person most capable of protecting the stone would also be the one rendered powerless by it.

As she continued to fret, Anna felt a hand rest gently on her arm. Rapunzel smiled at her.

“Don’t worry, Anna,” she said. “It’ll be more than safe with us.”

Anna smiled back. “Thanks.”

She took one further glance at the stone — it really was a tiny thing for all the work that’d gone into findng it — and left the vault with Rapunzel and Eugene in tow. They watched the two royal guardsmen lock up behind them before making their way slowly up through the twisting passages and into the aboveground portion of the castle.

“You don’t have to go back if you don’t want to, you know,” Rapunzel said as they strolled through a small courtyard. “You’re still on the Arendelle consulate. There’s plenty of work stacking up, especially after that blizzard. We can send word to Elsa that you’re okay. That’s everything’s okay thanks to you.”

Anna let out a heavy sigh. “I know…”

When she’d stepped off the boat from Arendelle all those weeks ago, she’d been _so_ excited to start work. Even though a lot of things had changed since, that hadn’t. Not in the slightest. Finally breaking free from the remaining walls of her childhood home… Being useful, not just as Elsa’s little sister, but as herself. As Anna.

Just Anna.

“I have to go back home,” Anna said. “Even if we send ten thousand letters, it wouldn’t be enough for Elsa. She’ll fret and worry and set off a whole ‘nother blizzard until she sees me in person.”

“Anna has a point you know,” Eugene said as Rapunzel started to protest. “If you were the one who’d gone off a life-threatening adventure, I wouldn’t sit around and be content with a letter either.”

“Yeah, and then you’d end up putting _yourself_ in peril in the rush to find me,” Rapunzel told him with a smirk.

“But you’d always be there to save me,” Eugene said, bending over as he nuzzled into her cheek

“Eugene!” she hissed, her face burning scarlet. To Anna she said, “He normally doesn’t do things like this. He just likes to _embarrass_ me in front of company.”

She shoved him away, and he burst out laughing.

Anna stiffed her own giggle at their antics. The two reminded her that Elsa wasn’t the only one waiting for her at home. There was Olaf and Sven and Kristoff…

Kristoff.

Anna’s chest hollowed ever so slightly.

The stuff that had happened between her and Hans… It wasn’t _technically_ cheating, was it? That is to say, it’d been a situation that even the most romance-entrenched heroines could only dream of. It’d been a single kiss and a small one at that. It was only natural that she’d sort of… just… gone with the moment.

And now that moment was over and Anna would be able to resume her normal life.

Whatever “normal life” meant.

Anna breathed deep, in and out, and then realized that Rapunzel had been trying to talk to her.

“Huh?” she said.

Rapunzel sighed. Her lips quirked in a wry smile. “I said it’s not as though you’ll be away from us forever, right?”

Anna laughed.

“Just you wait,” she said. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And that's all she wrote for Act One. Thanks everyone who's made it here so far with me. I know it was a bit of a wait for this one. Will take another short-ish break before diving back into Act Two. I'd say look for the next chapter around the start of September? Middle of September? General September-ish time.
> 
> This is almost like an ending in and of itself, so yeah. Good temporary stopping point. Nothing but cliffhangers and drama from here on out.


	11. Act Two: Part One

The heavy curtains were tied back so the winter sunlight could stream in through the tall windows. Anna laid back on the sofa, enjoying a relaxing, informal breakfast, one of the firsts of the new year. She’d been allowed to go home to Arendelle for the holidays; Christmas would have been fun with Rapunzel and Eugene, but in the end nothing beat time with her immediate family.

Elsa was eating her breakfast at the table like adults were supposed to. Stacks and stacks of paper were laid out in front of her: figures from the most recent shipping imports. Anna alternated between gobbling down breakfast and knitting a particularly long scarf — a hobby she’d picked up on the long voyages between kingdoms. As she got crumbs in the yarn, Anna could feel Elsa’s silent exasperation and disapproval radiating across the room.

Kristoff sat next to Anna, her feet plopped over his lap as he practiced his reading by going through the daily announcements from the neighboring kingdoms.

“Flodheim regrets to anoe… announce a massive heist of their stores of dried sugar beets,” he read. “Expect higher prices until summer.”

“That’s a shame,” Elsa remarked as she flipped through a page of her own reports. “Gerda loves those beets. We’ll have to see if there are any other kingdoms with stock.”

“Also the 80th birthday of the Queen Mother is approaching. Flodheim hopes its sister kingdoms are blessed with similar felih… felici…”

“Felicitations,” Elsa aided.

“…felicitations.”

“That’s a polite heads up that they want everyone to give her stuff,” Anna said with a grin.

“Anna! You’re an official member of the consulate now,” Elsa said. “What would the Flodheim ambassador say if he heard you say something so coarse?” But Anna could see the quirk of her sister’s lips all the same.

“He wouldn’t say anything,” Anna said, “because he’d never hear me say it. Just like I never hear the things he says about _us_ behind closed doors.”

“Weideland,” Kristoff said, once the two sisters had paused long enough, “is planning release of new stamp.”

“Hmm, very important news that is,” Anna said, grabbing a slug of orange juice. “Totally worth the messenger bird.”

“The new design,” he continued with a slight roll of his eyes, “will celebrate the upcoming wedding ceremonies of Princess Josephine, the Crown Princess of Weideland and…” Kristoff’s face twisted in displeasure and disbelief. “Prince Hans of Southern Isles?!”

Anna spit out her orange juice, drenching her scarf.

“What?!” Elsa snapped as frost shot across the small table.

“I don’t know!” Kristoff said. “Maybe I’m reading this wrong? Here, you look.”

Anna threw her scarf to the floor and scrambled for the missive. Her eyes darted down and down the hand-penned lines until they found the one in question.

There it was: Princess Josephine of Weideland to be married to Prince Hans.

“I…” Anna said. “I don’t…”

She didn’t understand.

True be told, Anna didn’t think too much about her “adventure” from the last summer. It was easier not to, and most of the memories were cold and unpleasant ones. Oh, her actual accomplishments had been great, and she still humble bragged about saving half a dozen kingdoms from wintery death whenever she could, but as for everything else…

Well, it wasn’t like any of it had led anywhere. And it wasn’t going _to_ lead anywhere. And even just _remembering_ it’d happened wasn’t fair to Kristoff.

Anna knew who Hans was. He was an act. He’d always been an act. A charming facade. Anna _knew_ that… but she never thought that he would get married to someone else so soon—

She blinked as the missive was ripped out of her hands.

Elsa was holding it now, pacing the length of the small sitting room as she scanned the document.

“Impossible!” she muttered. “I can’t believe— _That stupid woman_!” She whirled to face Kristoff and Anna. “We warned them! We warned all the royal families! And his _brothers_! What were they thinking?! They promised us they wouldn’t let him free like this!”

Kristoff coughed awkwardly. “Well, Anna said most of his house arrest stuff got dropped this past summer. In exchange for helping out with that blizzard thing,” he said. “Isn’t that right?”

Elsa groaned. “Don’t remind me about that. I still can’t believe you didn’t put up more of a fight when they started re-discussing the charges.”

Anna blinked before realizing that Elsa was specifically talking to her.

“I wouldn’t have been able to get the stone without him,” Anna said sheepishly. “It felt wrong not giving him credit.”

“You know what feels wrong? Letting a sociopathic murderer get unfettered access to the continent’s royalty,” Elsa said. “Parole is only for people who deserve it. For people who’ve changed.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Or do you honestly think he turned over a completely new leaf?”

“I…” Anna’s head swirled as she glanced between Kristoff and Elsa; the missive clutched in her sister’s hands had iced over. She sighed. “I don’t know what I thought.”

* * *

“Ooh, and take these! You have to take these.”

“Olaf, I can’t take everything.”

Anna sat on her bed as the snowman waddled around her room, packing her suitcases for her. Christmas had rushed by; January and February had passed in the blink of an eye. The seas were clearing up again which meant it was time to resume her ambassadorial duties.

“Oh, I know…” Olaf said. “Ooh! But what about this? You can’t just leave this!”

Olaf passed her a roughly-carved reindeer figurine. Anna smiled; it’d been Kristoff’s gift to her as a welcome home present.

“You’re right,” Anna said. “I can’t leave this.”

Olaf beamed at his thoughtfulness and packed it in along with the dozens of other little trinkets Anna hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to. The snowman was in the middle of championing a nesting doll set of her, Elsa, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven when one of the palace servants burst in.

“The queen needs you at once!” he said.

Olaf and Anna looked at each other.

“Any particular reason?” Anna asked.

“Not that she has shared with me, your highness.”

With no further explanations coming, Anna hopped off her bed and let the servant lead her to her sister. Olaf followed close behind. They arrived at door of Elsa’s study at same time as Kristoff and another servant. The three of them shrugged at each other in confusion before entering.

If there’d been a fire in the fireplace, there wasn’t anymore. Elsa was pacing back and forth in front of the mantle, wringing her hands together fretfully. She looked up as they approached, her face locked into a neutral sort of grimace.

“What’s… up?” Anna ventured.

“I just received a messenger bird from Weideland.”

Weideland. Hans and the princess.

“Ooh, Weideland,” Olaf said as Anna’s stomach was seized by a weird sort of clammy, flippity feeling. “Where’s that?”

“Please tell me they listened to your warning and canceled the wedding and we’re _not_ gathered here to hear terrible news,” Kristoff said.

“They didn’t,” Elsa said. “And worse, the ship Princess Josephine and Hans took for their honeymoon…” She closed her eyes. “Apparently there was a storm. The wreckage was found a couple days ago. Bodies too. No survivors.”

Anna’s heart thudded loudly in her ears. The world seemed too soft and too loud at the same time.

Hans couldn’t be dead. He was too crafty to be dead.

He’d survived a blizzard with her. Wolves. Ancient spells. And now she was just supposed to accept that he was gone? Like that? Because some stupid little scrap of paper stuck onto the leg of some stupid little bird said so?

“Anna?”

Someone was gripping her hands. They were saying words, speaking to her. Anna blinked and saw the concerned face of Kristoff staring back at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, pushing him gently away. “It’s just… a shock. That’s all.” She forced her breathing under control, composed herself. “Are… are they sure he was on the ship?”

Elsa’s face darkened; her sister didn’t need to ask who ‘he’ was.

“Believe me, I’m just as skeptical as you,” she said, resuming her pacing. “If anyone could set up something like this, make it seem like an accident, it’s him. And if it _was_ a genuine storm…” Elsa sighed. “I think it’d be best for you to put off your return to Corona until more news arriv—”

“No!” Anna yelled.

Elsa halted in mid-step. “Anna,” she said. “I’m only trying to keep you safe. Regardless of whether it was a storm or some sort of trick…”

“A trick,” Anna repeatedly flatly. “People are dead and and your first thought is how to keep me here because, oh no! A trick! Whatever shall poor Anna do?”

“Anna, you know it’s not like that.”

“Then what?” Anna said. “What is it like?”

Elsa drew herself up and clasped her hands together primly. “I trust you, Anna. I trust you more than I trust anyone else in this world,” she said. “But when it comes to him…” Elsa bit her lip. “Let’s just say you’ve never quite had the best… judgement.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?!”

Elsa rubbed her temples. “I really don’t want to have to go over this again.”

“This is getting rather emotional,” Olaf whispered to Kristoff. “Don’t you think it’s getting emotional?”

Kristoff cleared her throat. “Maybe we should all take some time to process this news?” he ventured. “You know, step out for a bit? Cool our heads?”

“No,” Anna snapped. “Elsa has something she wants to _say_.”

“For the love of— Anna, you agreed to marry the guy after only knowing him for three whole hours!”

“Oh! _Oh!_ So we’re dragging _this_ through the mud again!” Anna inhaled sharply. “I can’t believe you. That was one time. One time! And it happened forever ago!”

“It was last year!”

“Two years! Also, people are allowed to make mistakes, you know,” Anna said. “They’re allowed to grow and learn and change and—”

“Yes,” Elsa said, a sliver of irritation dripping into her voice. “They are. But just because they’re allowed to change doesn’t mean they always _do_. Anna, the second time you met him, you ran off with him again.”

“That’s not—! I was trying to save the world!” Anna protested. “I _did_ save the world!”

“But it was _him_ , Anna. Anything could have happened.”

“We had an escort.”

“You ended up losing that escort.”

“And it wasn’t like I had a choice,” Anna continued. “What was I supposed to do? Sit around Corona as the snow piled up and wait for _you_?”

“Well, it would’ve been smarter than what you ended up choosing.”

Anna inhaled sharply, her nostrils flaring.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “I can’t— I can’t _believe_ you!”

Anna spun around and stormed off.

“Wait, Anna!” Olaf called out. “Elsa didn’t…”

Anna slammed door behind her and fumed down the corridor. Moments later she heard Kristoff shout her name. He jogged to catch up beside her.

“She’s just worried about you,” he said. “It’s what families do.”

“I know…” Anna said. She scuffed her foot against the tiled floor. “But she can’t just… She’s been worried about me her whole life. She keeps it bottled inside her, like it’s something only she can understand. And when things start to shatter, she thinks she’s the only one it affects.” Anna sighed, looking at the walls that surrounded her. “We were both trapped here for over a decade. Trapped from the world. Trapped from ourselves. All because it’s what our parents thought would keep us safe. It’s what _she_ thought would keep us safe… I don’t want that.”

“And I don’t want that either,” Kristoff said. “But, if that message is true and Hans really is dead, then that’s really big news. And regardless of what’s “safe” or not, it’s only natural that the two of you need time to process it.”

Anna looked away. She wanted to stay mad. She wanted to hold onto the seed of anger that’d planted itself… but she couldn’t. Her lips broke into a smile.

“You’re right,” she said. “As always.”

The two shared a small peck on the lips and Anna excused herself to resume packing. Only once she’d shut herself in her room did she allow herself to shudder and then scream into her pillow.

* * *

A couple days before Anna’s ship was due to leave for Corona, Elsa knocked on her door. She stood for awhile in the center of Anna’s bedroom without speaking, her fingers twisting back and forth. Anna sat down on her bed, waiting.

“Look,” Elsa finally said. “I know we both said some things earlier this week. And I’m sorry. I know this position really important to you. I want you to succeed. I want you to be able to do things you want to do.” She gave a small sympathetic smile. “It’s just hard to stand back and not do anything when I’m worried, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I know,” Anna said. She stared at her hands clasped in her lap.

She understood Elsa’s feelings perfectly.

And that was part of the problem. Anna understood Elsa’s feelings because they were her own: Why couldn’t Elsa see that she worried about things too? That she had trouble standing back and not doing things for the exact same reason?

“There haven’t been anymore reports of storms or anything out of the ordinary for this time of year,” Elsa continued. “So I’d be more than happy to see you off to Corona, but…” Elsa took a deep breath. “Would you consider taking… me? Along?”

Anna stared at her sister.

“But you’re the queen,” she said.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“We can’t be on the same boat!” Anna said. “If something happens—”

“ _‘If something happens’_ is exactly why I want to go,” Elsa said. She sat down next to Anna and then gazed forward, not looking at her. “Just let me come with you to Corona and then I’ll head straight back home. It just, if something happened… if there was a storm and something happened to you, I simply couldn’t…” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Look, I know it’s risky having the two of us on one ship, but if something happens, it can’t. I can get rid of storms. If there are waves, I can freeze them.”

“You can’t deal with _everything_ that could happen though,” Anna said. “You’re not invincible, Elsa.”

“Well, yes. But that’s not—”

“One day you’re going to run into something you can’t solve with your powers. You won’t be able to protect me.”

“Anna…”

“I know. But until then,” Anna said, “I’d be happy to have you aboard, sister.”

* * *

It was the morning of the fifth day of their journey. The fair skies got a cheer from all the sailors on board, even if a bit of chill and fog lingered throughout.

Elsa was standing with captain by the helm. Her advisors had not been happy with the decision to place both the queen and the only, immediate heir to the throne on the same ship, but — as usual — Elsa won out. ‘ _I have magical powers than can protect me’_ tended to win a lot of arguments.

Anna was currently fidgeting near the bow.

She loved Corona and Arendelle but hated the journey between them. Besides knitting, there was only so much she could do without tripping into things and earning a number of grumbles from the sailors. She’d tried to read in her cabin but quickly got seasick. Gazing into the horizon helped, so Anna started by gazed starboard.

When that got boring, she switched to port.

She switched back.

Anna’s stomach began to settle, and she breathed a sigh of a relief. She was about to head back downstairs when she caught a tiny, dark shadow out of the corner of her eye in the fog. It was just a blip, but it was enough. She squinted at it for awhile, and then back-stepped until she bumped into the nearest sailor.

“Do you have a spyglass?” she asked.

“No,” he said gruffly. “Why?”

“Oh, it’s probably nothing,” Anna immediately said. “But I think there might be something out there.”

She pointed into the fog. The sailor’s eyes narrowed and then widened.

“It’s open ocean, so it shouldn’t be anything,” he said. “Just a piece of flotsam, all betting. But still, better safe than sorry.” He turned to another passing sailor. “Oi, Black Jim. Need to nab your glass for a second. Thanks.”

The sailor put the borrowed spyglass to his eye. “Well, blessed Mary, mother of—” he whispered before sucking in a deep breath. “MAN OVERBOARD!” he hollered. “BROAD OFF THE STARBOARD BOW!”

He tossed Black Jim’s spyglass to Anna as he hurried across the deck. She caught it fumbling, and then held it up to scan the water as she felt the ship start to turn beneath her feet. It took awhile, but Anna finally re-spotted the… well, _spot_ and twisted the spyglass to get better focus. It was still so far away, the fog obscuring so many details, but it did seem to be human-shaped, a body draped across a flat piece of driftwood.

Colors were slowly emerging too. Most of the figure was was a dingy grey, but there… up where the head would be was a shock of orange hair.

No.

It couldn’t be.

“What’s going on?”

Anna snapped the spyglass down, her hands shaking. Elsa was standing beside her. Her sister’s fingers curled over the railing as she stared at the emerging figure.

“I— I think it might be Hans,” Anna said.


	12. Act Two: Part Two

“Excuse me, what?”

Anna numbly pointed in the direction of the growing shape in the fog. Elsa frowned before snatching the spyglass out of Anna’s hands.

“Oh, Father above…” she muttered.

Elsa shoved it back at Anna, the cold metal stinging against her skin, and bound effortlessly over the ship’s railing.

“Elsa!” Anna yelled out.

The sea froze in tiny patches beneath Elsa as she darted across its surface faster than the ship could follow. Anna couldn’t do anything but squint as her sister approached the shape, both of their forms blurry in the fog…

Oh, right! She had a spyglass.

Anna lifted it up and focused the lens.

The fog still obscured most of the details, but Anna could now see Elsa standing over the orange-haired man. Her sister’s fists buried themselves into the cloth at the man’s neck, dragging him up and holding him there before suddenly dropping him. His limp body crashed against whatever plank of wood that’d been keeping him afloat.

He didn’t stir.

“What does she think she’s doing?” barked a gruff voice.

Anna wrenched her eye from the spyglass to see the captain sternly surveying situation beside her.

“We’re more than capable to rescue that man ourselves,” he said. “We don’t need any extra sea ice at this time of year. Call her back.”

“She…” Anna shrugged glumly. “She makes her own rules.”

Even as she glanced back, Elsa was quickly making her way back towards the ship. Beside her, a newly-formed block of ice pushed forward both the plank and the man on it. The ice rose up as it neared the ship and roughly dumped its cargo onto the deck. Elsa landed gracefully moments after. With an irritated flick of her hands, she melted the ice both on the ship and in the sea behind her.Then she crossed her arms and glared at the man now sprawled ungracefully across the salt-stained wood.

It was Hans alright. There was no mistaking his face from this close. His face was gaunt though, his skin a sickening, clammy white. His lips were cracked and blue.

He still wasn’t moving.

The captain began to examine him.

“Is he…?” Anna whispered.

“Alive,” Elsa cut-in. “Unfortunately.”

“This man needs some water and dry clothes,” the captain yelled to his surrounding men. “Someone prep one of the empty beds. Send word to the cook. Have him whip something up. Something hot and meaty if he can manage it.” He curtly nodded to Anna. “Good job spotting him, your highness.”

Anna beamed at the compliment but quickly felt her smile wither beneath Elsa’s glare. The sailors started to carry Hans below deck. Anna automatically moved to follow.

She felt Elsa grab her wrist.

“You should stay up here,” her sister said.

“But—”

“I’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

“Safe? From what?” Anna asked incredulously. “You saw him, Elsa. He’s half-dead! What is he going to do? Fall on me? He must have been floating out there for days… a week… If I hadn’t spotted him—”

“That’s just it, Anna. Why him?” Elsa said. “Of all the survivors to possibly find from that wreck, why him?”

“Why not?” Anna briefly closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her temple. “You know,” she said, “you’re acting like he actually _planned_ all of this. Like he planned for his ship to get blown apart by a storm and then drift for days and days in the open ocean until we just _happened_ to find him. Do you know how _ridiculous_ that sounds? Also, have you considered that maybe it isn’t just him? Maybe there are others drifting out there in that fog. Did you ever think about that?”

“Then go and spot _them_.”

Anna opened her mouth to argue further but realized this was one of the battles she wouldn’t win. Besides, her sister had a point. If there were other survivors out there, they needed her help.

Anna’s shoulders slumped as Elsa strode off after the captain. She paused for a moment, hands clutching her borrowed spyglass. Then she took a deep breath and got to work.

* * *

Anna lurked nervously outside Hans’ makeshift cabin. Both Elsa and the captain had declared him too ill to leave his rooms for the duration of the journey. Anna doubted the complete truth of that; the various sailors that they’d posted outside his room for his “safety” hadn’t been exactly subtle.

Since the sailors all had other ship duties, the men took turns standing guard as part of a rotating shift. Anna had waited a full day for one particular sailor’s turn to come up; he was an older man who acted more like a friendly grandpa who’d wandered onboard by mistake than one of the other sea-hardened crew.

It took her less than a minute to convince the man — she was just really concerned about his health. Please? Pretty please? — to let her into Hans’ room.

“Anna?” she heard a familiar voice say as she shut the door gently behind her.

She took a deep breath, and then turned around.

Hans was sitting in the narrow bed, a loose white shirt hanging over his emaciated frame. His lips were still cracked and his skin was blistered and peeling in places. His eyes and cheekbones were sunken, creating harsh shadows that pooled across his face.

Anna didn’t care what conspiracy theories her sister had. No one could fake this and, frankly, it was a miracle he was still alive.

“How are you feeling?” Anna asked, and then winced at silliness of the question.

“Like death,” Hans said, his voice rougher than she remembered. “Or is that too cliché?”

Anna grinned sheepishly.

“Oh!” she said, suddenly fishing around her belt for a flask. “Do you need water? I’m sure they’re giving it to you, well, _obviously_ they’re giving it to you, but if you need more—“

“I’ve been getting enough water,” Hans said with a tired smile.

“Okay. That’s good then.”

Her fingers picked at each other as an awkward silence swept over the small room.

Hans sighed. “Why are you here, Anna?”

She flinched.

“I would’ve thought that was obvious,” Anna said. “You almost died. I wanted to check up on you.”

“You know that your sister and the captain are taking care of that,” Hans said evenly. “So why are you here?”

“Can’t a person check up on a friend?” Anna ventured with an innocent shrug.

“You really consider me a friend?”

The way he said it unsettled her. Not in a terrifying, shiver-producing kind of way but something else still… unpleasant.

“I make friends with everyone, good and bad,” she said, trying to laugh it off. “Call it a strength, call it a weakness. It’s just who I am. Or don’t you remember?”

“How could I forget?” Hans said with a slight roll of his eyes. But then his lips quirked up in narrow grin. “Alright, I admit it. I’m rather glad of your company.”

“Really?”

“Compared to your sister and the captain?” Hans held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “What can I say? It’s a low bar.” He shook his head while letting out a small snort. “She hasn’t thawed out one bit, has she?”

Anna’s face fell, her heart slowing to a dull thump.

Hans had proven himself capable, even somewhat trustworthy, during their journey last summer, but none of that changed the fact that he’d tried to murder Elsa. It’d been easier to forget about that when it’d been just her and him. When he had smiled and joked and complained about the weather. It’d been easy to think that he’d changed. Not fully of course. She’d be a fool to expect that much. But maybe… a little? Everyone was capable of change as long as it happened one step at a time, weren’t they?

But for him to joke so casually about Elsa? To insult her? To try and portray _her_ and the unreasonable one?

A woman he had tried to murder?

Maybe Elsa was right after all. Perhaps there was a part of Hans that would never change…

Anna suddenly remembered knitting her scarf, reclining peacefully as Kristoff had read out that missive.

“Why did you marry Princess Josephine?” Anna asked.

“Ugh. Not you too,” Hans muttered. Her ran his fingers up and back through his hair. “Your sister already grilled me for hours over every single detail. I didn’t do it, okay? Yes, I lie. A lot. Why should anyone believe me? But lying is one thing. Capsizing a ship in the middle of the ocean with myself on it is another. Is that really so hard to grasp?!”

His outburst took Anna by surprise, but she quickly re-straightened her thoughts. She cleared her throat.

“That’s not what I asked,” Anna said.

“What?”

“Why did you marry Princess Josephine?” Anna repeated, her voice level like steel. “Was it because she was a princess? Or was it for…” She trailed off, interlacing her fingers. She knew what she wanted to say, but the last word was having trouble coming out. “Was it for…”

“Love?” Hans supplied.

Anna stared at the floor.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked. “Yes? No?”

Her head shot up. “It’s not about what I want,” Anna said. “Just speak from the heart. Tell the truth. For once.”

Hans stayed silent, his face pensive.

Anna buried her face in her hands with harsh laugh.

“Actually, you know what? Forget it.” She gazed at the ceiling, trying to keep her voice steady. “I don’t know what I was expecting to get from that. I don’t even know why I asked. Maybe she was different. Maybe you loved her. Maybe she was just the latest version of me. Either way, it doesn’t matter, and I don’t know why I thought it did.”

Anna stumbled back towards the door and gripped its handle.

“She was the crown-princess,” Hans said.

Anna paused, still facing the door.

“She was a nice girl,” he continued. “Polite. Beautiful. No pesky siblings. Everything you could ask for in a wife, really… but that hardly means I loved her. In fact, at this stage in life I’m not sure I’ve ever been capable of the emotion.” She heard him sigh. “I was in it for the long haul this time though. No plans to cut the marriage short. But it seems that God, on the other hand, did.”

Anna leaned her forehead against the door.

“Why should I believe that?” she whispered.

“Why would I say something so heartless if it wasn’t true?” Hans said. “Besides, if anything her death is an unnecessary complication to me. Freshly married, no little heirs squalling about… I’ve got a uphill battle ahead of me, arguing for my rightful claim to the throne. Apparently she has these second cousins of hers that have been eyeing the throne for years. Due to some unfortunate marriages, they’re next in line you see, and they’ve been lurking in their countryside manors, just waiting for the right little… _slip_.”

Anna’s fingers tightened around the handle.

He was talking so callously about her. His wife. His dead wife.

Anna took a couple shallow breaths to center herself.

“Are you at least sad that she’s dead?” she finally managed.

“Who? Josephine?” he asked.

There was a slight pause, the faint rustling of sheets, a creak of wood as the boat listed from one side to the other.

“It’s hard to say really. I mean,” he said, “it’s not as though we knew each other for very long.”

Anna flinched.

Her hand frozen to the door handle, she slowly turned to face Hans.

He was sitting in the narrow bed, exactly as he’d been when she’d entered. His face was porcelain, smooth and expressionless. He held his chin level as they stared directly into each other’s eyes.

Anna turned and fled.

* * *

Their ship docked in Weideland’s main harbor the next day, a slight detour from their scheduled route to Corona. With clear blue skies and the crisp spring air, the whole crew should’ve been in good spirits.

Instead, they were all lined up tensely on deck, bidding Prince Hans an official farewell. A small gathering from the nearby castle waited for him at the bottom of the gang plank. All of them were dressed in mourning. Hans matched them, wearing a mask of sorrow to hide the emptiness that Anna knew laid beneath.

Hans shook the captain’s hand first, thanking him for his help, before moving on to the sisters of Arendelle.

Elsa kept her hands clenched politely in front of her. She looked firmly past Hans as he reached out, seemingly oblivious, to offer a handshake of peace. His hand lingered in the air for several lonely seconds before he smoothly withdrew it.

“I wanted to thank you officially,” he said. “I know we both have past grievances with each other” — his expression didn’t flicker as Elsa snorted in derision — “but I’m hoping that one day we’ll be able to put that behind us and start forging a brighter future.”

“My condolences lay with King Henri and the death of his daughter,” Elsa said stiffly.

Silence followed.

The two stared at each other for several moments, and then Hans glided sideways to face Anna like a pre-programmed, clockwork doll.

Anna, for her part, settled for crossing her arms and glaring at the prince with her most menacing glare.

Unlike with Elsa and the captain, Hans didn’t offer Anna his hand to shake. Maybe he didn’t want to bother with the effort. Maybe he finally knew her well enough not to insult her.

She hoped it was the latter.

Not that she really cared.

“Anna,” Hans said. “I…” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

With no further explanation, he turned and started limping toward the gangplank.

Anna’s arms loosened. She leaned forward on her toes slightly, peering after him in confusion.

At a loss, she turned to Elsa.

“He’s sorry?” Anna said, lifting an eyebrow. “Sorry for what?”

“Anna, there are so many, do you really have to pick?” Elsa asked. She watched as Hans continued to make his way towards the dock and shook her head. Then she turned to the captain. “Please tell me we’ll be able to set sail again soon.”

“With pride, your majesty,” he said. “The men are just loading some extra supplies. With this tide and the wind holding steady, we should be good to hoist anchor in another hour or so.”

“Good,” Elsa said before glancing back at the dock. Several black-coated men were greeting Hans with solemn handshakes and silent tears. She rolled her eyes in disgust. “The sooner we leave, the better.”

* * *

The sun was shining and the birds were tweeting and everything was too dang cheerful. Anna shoved herself back from her work desk with a groan and slammed the window shutters shut.

It was officially the first day of summer and Anna was stuck inside sifting through paperwork. Paperwork!

As the most junior member of the Arendelle consulate, it fell on her to go through most menial forms. Though, she had to admit it was a little cool having _her_ name be signed on the bottom of each sheet of paper. She was the official “approver.”

“Anna! Anna! Anna!” cried a loud, cheerful voice.

The door to her study slammed open and Rapunzel burst in. Anna’s hands immediately slammed down over her papers to preemptively prevent them from scattering.

“Do you know what next week is?” Rapunzel asked, leaning her elbows on Anna’s desk.

“Uh… someone’s birthday?” Anna guessed.

“It’s the start of the annual, inter-kingdom Summer Tournament!” Rapunzel said. “And Corona’s hosting it!” Her smile stretched the full length of her face.

“Oh, yeah. Aunt Primrose mentioned something about that,” Anna said. She frowned. “I don’t remember there being one last year.”

“Well, there was the blizzard. Remember?” Rapunzel said. “Snow tends to put a damper on summer tournaments. But just wait until you see! People will be coming here from all over! Old people! Young people! Men! Women! Farmers! Kings! And the events!” Rapunzel suddenly clasped Anna’s hands, her face growing serious. “I need you to compete with me.”

“Compete in what? You should know in advance I’m a hit or miss when it comes to physical stuff.”

“Three words,” Rapunzel said. She lowered her voice to a hush. “Competitive. Team. Painting.”

Anna blinked. Rapunzel was staring straight into her eyes looking deathly serious.

“That sounds fake…” Anna said. “But okay.”

“Pleeeease, Anna!” Rapunzel begged. “I’ve been trying to get Eugene to do it with me for years but he always says ‘no.’ And Maximus would do it, but apparently there’s this weird thing in the rules about horses.”

Anna glanced down at the stacks of paper on her desk. She still had so many to go through and if she agreed to help Rapunzel in the tournament, there’d be such a huge backlog…

A nasty thought shivered through her.

Was she really considering rejecting an art contest with her cousin so she could stay and sign more forms in the dark? Yeesh. That was way too similar to Elsa for her comfort.

“Okay,” Anna said. “I’ll do it.”

“Hooray!” Rapunzel let go of Anna’s hands to fist bump the air. “First place, here we come!”

Anna smiled and then remembered…

“Wait,” Anna said. “You said there’d be kings coming?”

“Yes! Not all of them obviously,” Rapunzel said, “but a few. Princes and princesses too. Let’s see…” She held up her fingers to count. “There’s Wallonia, Dunois, Summershire, Weideland, the Southern Isles— Oh!” Her hand flew to her face. “Sorry, Anna, but can’t just _not_ invite them.”

“No worries. You have _nothing_ to apologize for,” Anna said. “And it’s not like it’s the people’s fault that their princes are so…”

She trailed off, unsure of exactly what adjective to use.

There were so many.

“Don’t worry,” Rapunzel was saying. “I’ll stick by you like tree sap. If anyone annoys you, they’ll end up getting a personal introduction to my frying pan.”

“You’re going to carry your frying pan around the tournament?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“You know, there are equally effective, less bulky weapons.”

“I knooow,” Rapunzel said. “But I like my frying pan.” She shrugged. “So what do you say? Out of this study and into some fun?!”

“I already said… Wait, what? You mean now?”

“Of course! We need to get some practice in before the big day!”

Anna bit her lip. She hadn’t really expected to sink _that_ much time into it.

She looked at the shutters and imagined those annoying birds beyond. In her mind she could see the ambassador, shaking his head at her in disapproval. Her sister, hunched over and fretting about the latest financial reports.

“Aww, hell,” Anna said, shoving the nearest stack of paperwork aside. “I can finish these later. So what exactly are we painting?”

Anna let out a startled yelp as Rapunzel grabbed her arm and yanked her from her chair. She let her cousin drag her out of the room, rambling the whole way about the basic rules and scoring system.


	13. Act Two: Part Three

Anna dunked her brush into the can of orange pigment and continued painting furiously. An enormous, complex mural lay beneath her, spread out across the city’s cobbles, morphing seamlessly from spring to summer to fall to winter. As she put the finishing touches onto her autumn leaf storm, she glanced over at Rapunzel and winced.

Hoo boy.

It wasn’t like Anna was a bad artist. She could run laps around Kristoff and Olaf’s stick figure drawings. However, compared to Rapunzel’s talent…

She forced herself to ignore her cousin and got back to her own work. There were still so many things she had left to paint! The winter sky! A fleet of reindeer! Houses… oh! She’d almost forgotten the windows…

“Time!” bellowed the judge.

Anna and the rest of the competitors jumped back. She stared at the painting, chest heaving with adrenaline. It was done.

A paint-smeared hand interlaced into hers. Anna glanced up to see Rapunzel beaming at her.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” her cousin whispered. “It’s perfect!”

Anna looked back at the painting. It was… impressive. She did take pride in that. It was, without a doubt, the _best_ piece of art she’d ever done. However… it was still painfully obvious where Rapunzel’s parts of the mural ended and Anna’s began.

“Thanks, but…”

“It’s perfect,” Rapunzel repeated firmly.

They stood together in silence as they waited for the judges to review each submission and declare a winner.

“In third place,” the head judge finally announced. “Johan and Aletta from the kingdom of Wallonia!”

The crowd clapped and cheered as a quiet, black-haired couple came forward to claim their prize.

“In second place,” the judge continued, “the princesses Anna and Rapunzel from the kingdom of Corona!”

Cheers erupted again, louder this time. Anna remained suspended in shock for a moment, stumbling as Rapunzel dragged her forward. They stood together in front of the applauding crowd as they received their trophy, smiling both at everyone and no one in particular.

They’d won.

It’d been a while since Anna had won anything. Well, anything more than a participation award or Arendelle’s best cheer coordinator.

She wasn’t sure why Arendelle even _had_ a best cheer coordinator award.

Rapunzel lifted their trophy higher to show off to the crowd, and Anna’s smile faded slightly. If it hadn’t been a team competition, her cousin would’ve gotten more than second…

As if on cue, the judge announced the first place winners, and the two princesses stepped off to the side. Anna let Rapunzel keep hold of the trophy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Sorry?” Rapunzel blinked in confusion. “For what?”

“If it wasn’t for me, you would’ve… well…” She bit her lip as the crowd let out one final thunderous applause. “These cheers would be for you right now.”

“What are you talking about?You’re acting like we straight out lost! Anna, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have even qualified!”

“If it’d been a single person challenge-“

“But it _wasn’t_ a single person challenge. Besides, those aren’t as fun,” Rapunzel said with a slight roll of her eyes. She clasped Anna’s shoulder with her paint-smeared hand and smiled. “Second place is still amazing, and I had so much fun! Did you have fun?”

“Well…”

“Did you have fun?” Rapunzel repeated seriously.

Anna smiled sheepishly.

“Yeah,” she admitted.

“See? What more could a girl ask for?” Rapunzel turned her head and suddenly started waving their new trophy high above the crowd. “Eugene!” she shouted. “Guess what! We won!”

Anna heard him shout back a distant ‘I know!” as Rapunzel politely pushed and shoved her way through the crowd. Moments later, her cousin had completely disappeared.

Anna sighed.

She remained standing in her current spot. The event coordinators were starting to rope off paths so that everyone could walk by and see the completed murals in a quick and organized fashion. A small seed of pride blossomed in her chest. Rapunzel had a point. Sure, maybe Anna wasn’t ever going to be the world’s next Da Vinci, but she had made something beautiful. Contribution was contribution.

“Princess Anna,” drawled a syrupy voice behind her. “So we meet again.”

Anna instantly frowned, the seed squashed.

She’d heard that voice before… but where? As she turned around, she repressed a shudder, forcing her lips up in a polite smile instead.

“Oh, umm… Manfried, wasn’t it?” Anna said, awkwardly trying to recall the name of Hans’ older brother. His red hair was plastered down with sweat, and he was vigorously attempting to cool himself with a miniature paper fan.

“Yes!” he said, breaking out into a toothy smile. “How wonderful that you remembered! Are you here by yourself? You shouldn’t be you know. A crowded city like this is not a safe place for a princess. Here, I’ll accompany you.”

He extended a spindly arm out towards her for her to… cling to? Like a damsel in distress? He hadn’t even asked her! He’d just assumed she’d…

Anna took a short breath. In. Out.

“Thank you but I’m more than capable of taking care of myself,” she said. “You know, magic blizzards and all?”

Manfried waved his hand dismissively in front of her.

“A little snow is _nothing_ compared to all the terrors of theft and kidnapping and who knows what else these… common folk get up to.”

What was left of Anna’s smile faded.

“It’s been wonderful,” Anna said in a flat voice. “But I should really get going.”

“And I simply can’t allow you to wander off on your own. My princely conscious forbids it,” Manfried said. “And Georg would agree with me.” He twisted his neck and shouted into the crowd. “Georg!”

Oh no.

Another red-haired man who’d been browsing a nearby jewelry stand turned and approached the two of them. His stern gaze pierced through Anna, sending ice cubes clattering into her stomach.

_Fat lot of good she is. It's the other one we need right now._

Georg continued peering at her, his eyes as narrow as his muttonchops were wide.

“Princess Anna,” he finally said. “What a surprise. Aren’t going to start another storm, are you?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play innocent with me,” Georg said. “Three years ago that sister of yours creates a blizzard that the two of you miraculously ‘fix.’ Then, last year, the same thing happens. No explanations. No cause discovered. Just a magic stone that miraculously ‘fixes’ everything. Did you really expect everyone to simply play along with your hero narrative?”

“ _Hero_ narrative? Wait!” Anna said. She blinked at him in disbelief. “Are you seriously trying to blame me for that storm? I was the one who stopped it! I was the one who saved everyone! Including you! You…”  She thought back to the days right after the storm had ended, when she was still lingering in Stralshagen, her and Hans… “You were grateful! You asked me for my opinion on things! You-”

“I was an unquestioning fool,” Georg said. “As was Manfried and the rest of my brothers. Isn’t that right, Manfried?”

Manfried swallowed, his fingers twitching nervously.

“Yes…” he said softly. “Yes, it is.”

Anna glared at Georg, but the older man seemed to take no notice.

“Everyone is always grateful directly after the fact,” he said smoothly. “Before they have time to think. To reason.”

“Reason _what_ exactly?”

Hans’ brother had officially slipped from purposefully annoying to outright deranged.

“Come to think,” Georg continued, “after that stint of yours, trade and general relations between Arendelle and the kingdoms affected by the blizzard increased fivefold. _Quite_ fortuitous if one actually stopped to think about it.”

“People _died_ in that blizzard,” Anna spat. “And if you think I’d intentionally-”

She paused.

Why was she arguing with him? Why was she even wasting a second of her time arguing with him? He didn’t want facts. He didn’t want common sense. He wanted to annoy her and belittle her and stay wrapped up whatever paranoid fantasy world of his.

Anna turned and stomped away.

“Yes,” Georg said. “Run like the coward you are.”

“The only coward here is you,” Anna yelled over her shoulder. “You don’t have any niceness in you, so you go and leech it from everyone else aroun- Oof!”

Anna knocked into someone. She stumbled back, flailing, and then a hand caught her. A flash of red hair. Her heart began to race as she looked up…

A pair of gangly limbs and a long nose greeted her.

No, that wasn’t right.

“Leon?” Anna said.

“The same,” her rescuer replied.

Great. _Another_ brother.

“Just how many of you are _here_?” she said without thinking.

“Pleasure to see you again too,” he replied. As Anna straightened up, Leon let go of her hand and began to count on his fingers. “Let’s see, there’s me, Manfried, and Georg, I see you’ve run into them over there…” He grimly nodded at the two brothers she’d just left.

“She’s a witch, Leon! Just like that sister of hers!”

“Oh, put a lid on it, Georg!” Leon yelled. “No one wants to hear your crazy theories!” At Anna, he sighed. “Sorry. _Try_ to ignore him. The rest of us do. Who else… Ernst and Ludwig, the twins, are here - they’re competing in half the events though, so you might see them, you might not. And then there’s Fritz and… Otto. I think that’s it unless another one or two stowed away. When you have twelve siblings, you never know.”

Anna nodded. From what she could remember, Otto had been somewhat nice. She wouldn’t mind seeing him again. The twins were hit or miss; she couldn’t remember holding a conversation of more than ten words with them. Fritz was somewhat more complicated. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been attempting to confess… well, _something_ to her in the hallway. She had no idea how he’d react to her now.

“And… Hans?” Anna ventured.

“Not here,” Leon said, “at least as far as I know.” He looked down at the street as he crossed him arms. “Truth be told, he hasn’t talked to us much since we let him leave the castle. Can’t say I blame him too much. I mean, your own family having to act as your prison guards? Personally, I hated every second of it…” Leon glanced at Anna, his eyes widening. “Not that any of us are bitter or anything,” he quickly said. “We all know it’s what had to be done after you and your sister-“

“It’s okay,” Anna said. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Ugh. Talking about Hans again?” Georg’s voice said directly behind her. He’d waltzed up without Anna realizing. “You’d really be better off forgetting about him. He married another girl, you know. He’s not interested in _you_.”

“His wife’s dead though,” Manfried piped in. “So technically he’s free again.”

“Yes, a terrible storm struck on their honeymoon” Georg said. His eyes narrowed at Anna. “How _fortuitous_.”

Anna stared at him.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply,” she said cooly. “And I’m not even going to waste brain power trying to figure it out.”

“Anna’s not interested in Hans,” Leon said. “She already has that man of hers. What was his name… Karl?”

“Christian,” Manfried muttered with a sullen glare.

“Kristoff,” Anna corrected.

Why was she still even talking to them?

“Oh, yes,” Georg said with a small cough. “That mountain man of yours. You’ve been together for… what is it now, three years?”

“Yeah, what is it to you?”

 “Well, as lovely as long term relationships are… there is a point, you see. In all of three years, not one hint of marriage or proposal. And here you are, halfway across the continent, continuing to lark about by your lonesome… After awhile people start to wonder if it’s truly a relationship or merely a facade.”

Anna glared at him, trembling, her fists clenched and ready to strike.

“Anna!”

She whirled around. Rapunzel and Eugene were rushing towards her through the crowds. As they drew close, they glanced back and forth between Anna and the three brothers.

“Making friends?” Rapunzel asked.

“Princess Rapunzel,” Georg said before Anna could respond. “How wonderful to make your acquaintance. My name is Georg, and this is Manfried and Leon-”

“Of the Southern Isles,” Rapunzel finished. “Yes, I can see. Wonderful to meet you as well. Unfortunately, Anna, Mother needs us for a special something. Sorry,” she said to the princes, “Corona business. Have to run! Would love to talk some other time though!”

She grabbed Anna by the arm and dragged her off before the others could follow.

“Thanks,” Anna said when they were a safe enough distance away. “I take it there’s no Corona business?”

“Nope,” Rapunzel said cheerily.

“Perfect. I could have used you a bit sooner though.”

“I know… Eugene distracted me.”

“Sure,” Eugene said. “Blame the husband.”

“We made our way towards you as soon as we saw.”

“ _Man_ , those guys good at ganging up on people,” Eugene said. “Do they just wander around in packs or something? Ginger wolf packs.” Eugune mimed claws with his fingers. “Rawr.”

“What happened to the frying pan you promised?” Anna remarked dryly.

“Okay, so I had to deviate from the frying pan bit,” Rapunzel said. “As fun as it’d be, there’s always the chance that straight out attacking royalty _might_ cause a war.”

Anna glanced behind her. The princes were getting smaller and smaller in the crowd, but she could see them starting to bicker. She scowled.

“I think an exception could be made.”

* * *

“You look great, come on!”

“Wait! No, I- Ack!”

The brushes and jars and pins on Anna’s makeup table clattered to the floor as Rapunzel yanked her arm and dragged her out of her room.

“What’s worse?” Rapunzel said as she raced them down the halls. “One missing hair pin or being late?”

“Easy for you to say,” Anna muttered, glaring at her cousin’s ear-length cut. She managed to extricate herself from Rapunzel’s grasp and continued to tweak and adjust her braids with a couple of extra pins she’d managed to keep hold of.

“Anna, we’re the hosts. You know it’ll look bad if-”

“I know, I know,” Anna said. “Can’t keep kings waiting.”

In addition to the festivities during the day, the Summer Tournament brought with it socializing and fancy dinner parties with the kingdoms’ elite at night. Anna debated faking a cold at the last minute to get out of it, but Rapunzel convinced her otherwise. All of the Westergaard princes would be watched like a hawk, her cousin had promised. There’d be no repeat of the morning’s events.

The drawing room was packed with men and women when they arrived, about fifty in all. No one paid much attention to the two princesses’ entrance.

“Wow,” Anna said, flatly, as she surveyed the crowd. “It’s almost like we could have walked here from my rooms. Leisurely.”

“Heh heh,” Rapunzel said with small smile and a shrug. “We made it on time though.”

Anna rolled her eyes and strolled off to grab some chocolate from a nearby sweets tray. As she nibbled on a small truffle, she made a visual sweep of the room.

Red hair… red hair…

Georg and Manfried were by the pianoforte, looming and chatting over some unfortunate girl. Leon and one of the other older ones - it was hard to remember, but it had to be Otto - were mingling with some men by the empty fireplace. Another one… younger, round-faced, freckles… Fritz. He was at the center of his own social circle. As Anna watched, the prince said something and the group burst out in laughter.

She didn’t feel like talking to any of the princes. Well, Leon or Otto wouldn’t be too bad. Unfortunately if she spoke to one of them, the rest would take it as an open invitation. Perhaps if she found Rapunzel again, she could get her cousin to hide her behind some sort of tapestry. She could just vanish until dinner. After all, no one had noticed her come in; no one would hardly notice her leave…

Anna kept her eyes continuously darting back and forth between the five brothers as she slowly walked backwards towards the wall.

“Oof!”

She’d collided into another person. Again.

“I’m sorry!” she quickly said, hands pressing together in penance. “I wasn’t looking and…” She blinked. “I know you from somewhere…”

The person she’d bumped into was an older man, his hair spare and greying. He wore a thick pair of glasses above his broad, hooked nose and - more importantly - a large sash around his torso with the crest of Weideland.

“Your majesty!” Anna gasped, breaking into a curtesy.

“No need for that,” the old king said. He chuckled. “If anything, I should be the one paying my respects to you. I’ve never officially thanked you for finding an end to that blizzard.”

Anna blushed. “It was nothing really.”

“And if that wasn’t enough,” he continued, “you went and rescued my son-in-law as well.”

His son-in-law…?

She let out a small gasp. _Hans!_ That is, she knew Hans was his son-in-law, but to know it and then hear the actual king _say_ it were two completely different things. And then his daughter…

“I…” Anna pressed her lips together in helplessness. Condolences were ultimately useless when it came right down to it, but they were all she could give. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

The king shifted, adjusting his shoulders as he took a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he finally said. “Things… are as they are. We can only be grateful for what we still have.”

Anna awkwardly wrung her hands and glanced around the room for Rapunzel, for some sort of way out. She was almost willing to strike up a chat with one of the Westergaards, but for the first time in forever absolutely no one was paying her any attention.

“Is…” Anna struggled to think of some sort of icebreaker. She’d only met the king once, briefly at the beginning of her quest last year. They didn’t have too much common ground outside the weather. Literally. “Is Hans… a _good_ son-in-law?” she blurted out before instantly blushing. “Sorry! I don’t know if that’s too personal or if you don’t want to answer or-”

“Oh, no. It’s a fine question,” the king said. He coughed. “I have to admit, I didn’t like the chap at first. Far too quick of an engagement if you ask me. Arranged marriages excluded, what kind of fool agrees to a marriage proposal within a week of meeting someone?”

“Ha ha…” Anna said weakly. “What kind indeed?” 

“That and I had heard” - the king’s eyes narrowed at her ever so slightly - “rumors… still, I warmed up to him in the end, and he and my dear Josie did love each other so. Excuse me.”

The king turned away to dab at his watery eyes with a laced handkerchief. Anna bit her lip as she watched him, debating whether or not to tell the old man that Hans’ _“love”_ was all a lie. That while his daughter might have been head over heels for the prince, Hans remained a cold-hearted snake.

Would the king actually believe her though? Would he take a stranger’s word over that of his trusted son-in-law’s? And even though Hans hadn’t loved Princess Josephine, it wasn’t as though he’d been the one to kill her. Would telling the king the truth actually accomplish anything other than cause him more grief?

“He’s been very helpful, you know,” the king continued.

“Huh?”

“The boy’s a natural born leader. I thought that after the accident, he’d take some time alone for mourning, but he practically threw himself into his work. He didn’t even want to take time off to come here. Perhaps it’s his way of coping with the loss…” the king said. His face shadowed with creases as he frowned, and Anna felt a ping of guilt for making the old man recall his daughter’s death again. “As I was saying,” he continued. “Trade agreements, the royal treasury, public works… Did you know that every project he’s helmed has been completed ahead of schedule and under budget? And then we’ve been able to pass the money we’ve saved onto the people with lower taxes. They automatically love him for that, if nothing else.”

“Really?”

“Is it so surprising?”

It wasn’t, when she actually thought about it. She’d told Hans himself once: he had a knack for governing. But to be _that_ involved and effective when he was so callous about everything else…

“I mean,” Anna said, floundering to put her thoughts into inoffensive words. “That’s wonderful. Truly. But isn’t-”

“Excuse me! Attention everyone,” Queen Primrose called out from across the room. The room fell into a hush. “I want to thank all of you for attending the Summer Tournament once again. My husband and I are incredibly grateful to be your hosts this year. If you’d all follow me, dinner is ready to be served.”

The king raised his eyebrows at Anna, prompting her to continue.

“Umm…” Anna glanced at the people already filing out of the room. “It’s kind of a long and complicated… thing. Perhaps I’ll be able to talk to you again some other time?”

Anna gave the king another curtesy and scampered off to find Rapunzel and Eugene.

It wasn’t fair. The stories always made it clear: put a villain in charge of a country and the land itself would rebel. Plagues would hit. Crops would die off. He would straight out hoard all the kingdom’s gold for himself, counting it in his castle, as village after village would rise up against him.

That a terrible person could end up being an amazing ruler was a strange and, frankly, baffling concept to her.

Then again, Hans had only been in Weideland for a few months. Perhaps he was just rolling with some beginners luck.

Rapunzel and Eugene were hanging out in a corner, lingering back as everyone continued to file towards the dining hall.

“She wouldn’t let us leave without you,” Eugene said as Rapunzel rolled her eyes beside him.

“So…” she said. “Who was that you were talking to?”

Anna glanced over at where she and the king had been talking; he’d already left. “The King of Weideland,” Anna said.

“Cool,” Rapunzel said automatically.

Her eyes snapped wide open.

“Wait!” she said. “You mean of _the_ Weideland?! The father of-”

“Yes! Yes!” Anna said quickly, waving her hands in front of Rapunzel’s face to get her to shut up. “That king. I’ll tell you more later. Come on.”

The three made their way into the dining hall. Rapunzel’s parents and the couple of reigning kings and queens that were visiting had already taken their place at the far end of the massive table. Rapunzel, Eugene, and Anna sat down at the opposite end with the rest of the princes and princesses.

Anna instantly started scanning the table for mops of red hair.

Okay, there was Otto… and Leon… Georg and Manfried… so where was…?

“Anna!”

Oh no.

“After Leon and the others told me they’d run into you this afternoon, I just _knew_ we would meet again,” a voice purred beside her.

Anna resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands and slowly turned to face the man who had sat beside her. He smiled, no, smirked at her.

“Fritz.”

“The same,” he said. “Tell me, Anna. Do you have anything planned for tomorrow night? I’ve heard tales of this absolutely gorgeous seaside trail. Just think of it: you, me, the light of the summer moon shining down upon us…”

“Fritz, I…”

His lips pressed slowly together as his eyebrows lifted up towards the center of his face. She stared at him blankly.

“He’s doing the smolder,” she heard Eugene whisper from her other side.

“Fritz,” Anna said, firmly this time. “I have a boyfriend, you know.”

“How wonderful,” the prince said without losing a beat. “Of course, long distance relationships aren’t without their faults. That and I’ve heard certain… things about the two of you.”

“From Georg?” Anna said.

“From various sources,” Fritz said, glancing at his fingernails. He turned his gaze back towards Anna. “So… what do you say? I assure you, it’ll be worth your while.”

“Can’t you take a hint?” Rapunzel said. “She’s not interested.”

Fritz frowned. “No one asked you,” he said.

“Hey, look!” Anna said brightly. “The first course! Mushroom puffs! I love mushroom puffs! Oh! Do you know who else loves mushroom puffs, Rapunzel?”

Rapunzel stared at Anna for a second with a raised eyebrow and then brightened as well. “No, I don’t!” she said. “Who else loves mushroom puffs, Anna?”

“Kristoff!” Anna glanced at Fritz with a smile. “Kristoff, my absolutely wonderful boyfriend, loves mushroom puffs!”

“Ha ha,” Fritz said curtly. “A simple ‘no’ would’ve sufficed.”

Anna flinched as the prince outright glared at her. Then he turned and began instantly oozing charm at the girl on his other side. He said something and she giggled; Anna silently retched.

“Forget about him,” Rapunzel whispered. She picked up her fork as the first set of plates were set down in front of them. “He’s clearly already forgotten about you.”

“That’s the problem,” Anna muttered. “That’s the problem with _all_ of them.”

She glared at Fritz and the girl, grabbed her own fork, and stabbed at a mushroom puff, the metal making a harsh ‘clank’ against the porcelain. Fritz turned, raising a eyebrow at the sound. Anna simply smiled back.

“Yeesh,” Eugene said after Fritz looked away again. “Are you… okay? That is, you know if you have anything you need to talk about, we’re here. Okay, honestly, probably more Rapunzel than me. But just incase you need me too. I’m here.”

“I’m fine,” Anna said, glowering. “Perfectly wonderfully fine.”

She wasn’t fine. But she also didn’t want to admit that. Admitting that would mean that they’d gotten to her. That they’d won.

What they’d won, she didn’t know. She didn’t want to think about it. It was making her head hurt. She didn’t know why they got to her. Why she bothered hearing them out. Why she let them wrap her up in their little games - their words reaching beneath her skin and churning her insides - when they were such terrible people to begin with.

Such terrible, terrible people.

“You know who _really_ likes mushroom puffs?” Rapunzel asked airily.

“Rapunzel…” Anna moaned. “I don’t really want to talk about Kristoff right-”

“Maximus.”

Anna blinked at her.

“Maximus?”

“Yeah, he’s been pretty busy and stressed out since the tournament started. We should grab some stuff from the kitchen and go see him later tonight.”

“That could be… fun,” Anna said.

“Oh, did I tell you about the illegal shipment of mangos he busted recently?” Rapunzel said. “There were butterflies involved.”

“And a mime,” Eugene said.

“ _And_ a mime.”

Anna smiled despite herself. “Okay, go on,” she said. “I’m intrigued.”

Dinner brightened after that. Rapunzel and Eugene spent the rest of the first course tag-teaming the story of Maximus’ daring heroics. The mushroom puffs gave way to a delicious venison broth and then roast quail after that. The conversation morphed as well, mostly keeping to light, related topics: why mimes chose to become mimes, the differences between various tropical fruit, adorable animal companions…

“Well, sure,” Rapunzel was saying, “Pascal likes everything really, but he absolutely _loves_ papayas.”

“Where is Pascal by the way?” Anna said. “I thought he liked meeting new people?”

“Oh, he does, but Mother said it would probably be best to leave him upstairs. You never know which people have allergies or phobias or whatever.”

“Allergies? I didn’t think you could be allergic to rept-”

There was a loud screech as a chair scraped backwards. Anna’s head snapped towards the sound.

The King of Weideland was standing, his chair knocked to the floor. One hand was braced against the table while the other clutched at his heart. He wheezed, his face turning bright red.

“Someone call the doctor!” Aunt Primrose screamed.

Crashes rang out; servants dropped the next course, ran for help. All around the table, people gasped, people stood, people remained frozen in shock.

It was happening too fast.

The King choked out one last strangled breath. He pitched forward, sprawling as he hit the table.

He was dead.


	14. Act Two: Part Four

The hearth crackled in the still room, punctuating the silence with only echoes of warmth. Anna sat on Rapunzel’s bed as her cousin silently braided her hair.

Outside, the world had plunged into chaos. The tournament was officially on hold, further dinners suspended. A full battalion of special guardsmen had been assigned to the investigation of the king’s death. Eugene was out with them, volunteering his services as a ex-thief and devious mastermind. Everything so far was pointing towards a regular heart attack, but that didn’t mean they could rule out murder.

Murder.

Anna shivered.

Rapunzel’s fingers paused. “You okay?”

“I- I don’t know.”

Rapunzel snaked her arms around Anna and squeezed her into a hug.

“Don’t worry. If there was anyone behind this,” she said, “they’ll find them.”

“But…”

Anna fidgeted, her thumbs picking at each other in her lap.

Rapunzel twisted around to directly face her.

“But what, Anna?”

“If it was a murder…”Anna glanced away and took a shuddering breath. “…I already know who did it.”

Rapunzel’s face remained calm at the admission.

“You’re talking about Hans,” she said.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not thinking the same thing,” Anna said. “He’s next in line to Weideland’s throne. With the king dead, that means…”

Anna’s stomach chilled.

Hans was going to be crowned their king.

…y _ou were so desperate for love you were willing to marry me, just like that…_

Rapunzel sighed.

“You’re right about the potential motive, Anna,” she said. “But that’s also all it is right now. A motive. No one’s found any proof of anything yet.”

Anna bit her lip.

It wasn’t that simple. Why couldn’t she make Rapunzel understand?

“Anna?”

“Just… What if it’s my fault he’s dead?!”

“What?”

“Hans would still be under house arrest if I hadn’t vouched for him!” Anna said. “He wouldn’t have married Princess Josephine and then she would be alive and her father would be alive…”

Anna clenched her hands together until her knuckles hurt.

“What if he killed them both and I was the one who let it happen?” Anna whispered.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Anna, look at me.”

After indulging in a small sniff, Anna complied. Her cousin’s gentle brown eyes twinkled back at her with a sad smile.

“It’s not your fault, okay?” Rapunzel said. “Other ships got caught in that storm. They found the pieces of the wreck, bodies… and you yourself were the one that found Hans. Didn’t you said he was half-dead when you spotted him?”

Anna nodded.

“So how was that your fault? How was that anything other than an accident?”

_…I figured, after we married, I’d have to stage a little accident for Elsa…_

Anna flinched away from Rapunzel’s touch.

She tried to speak, but nothing came out. Anna pushed herself off Rapunzel’s bed and began pacing by the fireplace.

“Even if the ship was an accident, that doesn’t mean he wasn’t involved with this,” she said. “I mean, even if he’s not here, I know there are poisons that can look like heart attacks. All he would’ve had to do was slip some poison in a vial, have someone give it to a servant…”

“That’s why we’re _investigating_ ,” Rapunzel said. “If there’s even a trace of poison in the king, in the food, our people will find it.”

“But-“

There was a knock at the door. Eugene poked his head through.

“Interrupting anything?” he asked.

“No, we’re just fine,” Rapunzel said, hopping off the bed to give him a peck on the cheek. “Come right in.”

As she led her husband to a chair, Anna slumped down in a nook by the window.

“Find anything?” Rapunzel asked him.

“No,” Eugene said. “We’ve been examining the food… the wine… everything’s turned up normal so far, but…”

He bent forward and ran a hand through his hair.

Rapunzel frowned.

“Anna says she thinks-“

“Yes, Hans,” Eugene finished for her. “Right now, I think he’s suspect number one on _everyone’s_ lists.” He sighed. “The guy’s gonna have a fun time winning the trust of Weideland’s nobles, that’s for sure.”

“They can’t charge him for anything if there’s no evidence though… can they?”

“Not directly, no. But civil wars have started over less.” He shook his head. “I remember when Belleau practically self-destructed. Be glad the two of you weren’t around for that one.”

Anna stared down, picking at her fingernails again. Her body was split down the middle, the fireplace’s glow warming her front half as the stone walls leeched it from her back.

“Do you think Hans’ brothers had anything to do with it?” Eugene asked.

It took a moment for Anna to realize he was talking to her.

“What? Oh…” Anna thought about it as she took a deep breath. “They’re a petty group of pompous know-it-alls for the most part,” she said, “but I don’t think they were involved. None of them seem to like Hans very much, let alone like him enough to _kill_ for him.”

“Hmm…” Eugene said.

“Why? Are you questioning them?”

“Formally, no. From what the others told me, inter-kingdom investigations are more dance than investigation: one wrong step, the wrong, pissed-off person, and boom. War. But we _will_ have men tailing them for the next couple days. Just in case.”

He and Rapunzel moved on to discuss the logistics of the next several days: which guards would be assigned where, whether extra security would help ease tensions or simply increase paranoia, the official address Rapunzel’s dad would have to give to the public, the further steps that’d be needed if poison _was_ found because as much as everyone suspected Hans that didn’t mean he was automatically the culprit…

“What about you, Anna?” Eugene asked.

Anna blinked at him.

“What _about_ me?” she asked. “Are you saying I’m a suspect?”

“Of course not. But if Hans was behind the king’s death, I think you’d be number two on his poisoning list.”

“Actually, I think I’d be number three. After Elsa.”

_…all that’s left now is to kill Elsa and bring back summer…_

She tried to swallow; it got stuck in her throat.

“Nice,” Eugene said. “But I’m actually being serious for once. We can get some extra guards if you need-”

“I don’t need guards.”

Eugene and Rapunzel looked at each other.

“But-“

“I just listened to the two of you talk for the last half hour about how you don’t have _enough_ guards,” Anna said. She smiled. “Trust me. I’ll be fine.”

“Maximus has a rotating shift,” Rapunzel said. “He could always…”

Anna sighed. “You want the honest truth?”

She glanced down at her hands, not exactly sure what she was about to say. They were stray thoughts that’d been circling in her head - popping in, fleeting out - over the past several months. Thoughts she’d never actually put into words yet.

Thoughts she’d been kinda afraid to.

“It’s just…”Anna looked back up at the concerned faces of her friends and swallowed. “I joke about it, but I’m not sure I’m Hans’ number three. Or even number ten. Or number whatever. You see… I don’t think he hates me anymore. At least not like that.” Eugene’s face started to twist in disagreement, and Anna winced. “I know!” she said. “I know it sounds delusional! Don’t think for one second that I’ve forgotten everything he’s done, cause I haven’t! But…”

Anna stared off into the corner of the room.

“After we got the stone and he didn’t ‘need’ me to break the protections on it anymore, he had _more_ than enough time and opportunities to take his revenge on me… and he didn’t.”

“Anna,” Eugene said. “I hate to break it to you, but he _did_ need something else from you. Your word. If he came back with that stone by himself, nobody would’ve trusted him.”

“I know…”

A stray thought wedged itself in her brain.

It couldn’t possibly be related to… but it was still better to make sure.

“Is the stone still safe?” Anna asked.

“Yep,” Rapunzel said, seemingly eager to change topics. “Eugene and I _personally_ check on it once a week. Still gold and shiny.” She paused with a frown. “Why? You think _it_ has anything to do with this?”

“No, I…” Anna sighed again. “I don’t know what I think.”

* * *

In the end the investigations turned up nothing. The Summer Tournament resumed with muted excitement and ultimately wrapped up with a fraction of the fanfare it’d started with.

The months rushed by.

Anna quickly learned that the death of a monarch meant, well… funerals and mourning, _yes_ , but also mountains of paperwork for anyone working on the relationship-side of things between the various kingdoms.

As did the coronation of a new one.

Every so often a copy of the latest inter-kingdom trade agreement made its way past Anna’s desk. She always flinched at the sight of Hans’ name, printed in bold letters alongside all the other monarchs, before scolding herself for being silly.

Well, not silly.

Paranoid.

And not even _unfounded_ paranoid at that.

Still, there wasn’t anything a junior consulate member could do about the situation. Or a crown princess for that matter. If the people of Weideland were happy with him as their king, then the rest of the kingdoms just had to accept it.

Anna sighed to herself, shuffled the sheet into the rest of her reviewed pile, and continued her work.

* * *

Summer had fully chilled into autumn when the messenger let himself into the breakfast hall.

“Your majesties,” he said, bowing to Anna’s aunt and uncle.

Aunt Primrose put down her fork with a soft clink. “Yes?” she said while Uncle Thomas finished his chewing and dabbed at his mustache with his napkin.

“It’s from Weideland,” he said, passing letter to them. “They claim they’re under attack.”

Anna froze.

Her uncle’s chest rumbled with coughs as he reached for letter. Rapunzel and Eugene stared each other, a silent conversation rapidly being passed back and forth in series of eyebrow raises and mouth twitches.

Anna glanced back at her plate.

Hans hadn’t even been the king of Weideland for three months. Perhaps he’d angered the wrong person… Or a faction of older lords had broken off and challenged his legitimacy.

“By who?” Uncle Thomas asked even as he started unrolling the missive.

It _had_ to be the lords. It was the only thing that made sense. Kingdoms didn’t just hand their thrones and royal lines over to a one month marriage. _Less_ than a month. No amount of good governing could ever sweep that into the closet…

“Stralshagen,” the messenger said.

Wait, what?

Her mind called up memories of the small city-state. Sure, she’d managed to rescue them from the blizzard in time, but “in time” didn’t mean thriving. For a kingdom so crippled to declare war… Stralshagen wasn’t even a kingdom! The physical _size_ of the place compared to Weideland…

And then that didn’t even take into account their limited resources… population…

If Hans had been the aggressor though…

“Are you sure it’s not the other way around?” Anna blurted out.

She’d been privately lectured before by senior members of the consulate about her bad habit of “threateningly blunt political insinuations,” but everyone in the hall seemed to be as dazed as her.

The messenger nodded.

“There is a _chance_ Weideland made a mistake as to origin of the attacks,” he said. “But otherwise it’s printed right there. Plain as day.”

Her aunt and uncle were both hunched over now, sharing the small message between them. Rapunzel pushed her chair out and went to read over their shoulders.

“They don’t mention any reason for…” Aunt Primrose glanced up at messenger. “Was there anything else?”

“No, your majesties. Just that. However, it _was_ sent with one of their fastest birds. Perhaps more is on its way?”

Anna frowned to herself.

Nothing about this was making any sense…

She jumped as a chair scraped back. Uncle Thomas stood.

“My apologizes,” he told his family. “But I need to take care of this.”

Everyone around the table blankly nodded back at him. Rapunzel clutched her hands in front of her chest as he left the breakfast hall with the messenger, speaking in low, echoed murmurs.

Their conversation snapped to silence as the door swung shut behind them.

Rapunzel remained at her mother’s side.

“I don’t understand,” Rapunzel said. “I thought all the kingdoms were on good terms with each other.”

“As did I,” Aunt Primrose said.

Her eyes lingered on the closed door for a moment before she snapped her napkin back into place.

“Unfortunately, there’s nothing any of us can do about it at the moment,” she said. “Your father will take care of matters for now, not there’s much to take care of before more information arrives. In the meantime, it’s a shame to let food go to waste.” She shook her head. “It’s so ridiculous… Perhaps your father will come back before we’re all done with the news that this was all just some unfortunate miscommunication.”

“Yeah… Maybe…”

Rapunzel didn’t look as optimistic as her mother. She slunk back to her own seat, Eugene giving her a small smile before she resumed eating in silence.

Anna wished she could do the same. Her stomach still ached with hunger, her breakfast barely touched, but none of the food looked appetizing anymore.

“Wait,” Eugene suddenly said. His eyes widened. “Stralshagen. Aren’t they that tiny city kingdom?”

“Yeah. Run by stewards. Used to be bigger several hundred years ago, but their land’s been slowly chipped away since then…” She turned to Anna. “You’ve been there, right? Last summer?”

“Huh? Oh… yeah.”

“But why would Stralshagen ever _attack_ anyone?” Eugene said. “I mean, that’s gotta be a suicidal decision if I’ve ever heard one!”

Aunt Primrose, Rapunzel, and Anna all locked eyes with each other.

It was the question that’d been on all their minds. And just like that, the dam broke. Her aunt and Rapunzel instantly began discussing the possible, if there even _were_ any possible reasons for the attack.

Anna stayed silent.

After awhile, she stabbed piece of egg with her fork and forced it down her throat.

* * *

Anna’s first official Christmas away from home was a weird combination of festive delight and crippling homesickness.

Corona was really, _really_ far south… which, sure, was great for not freezing your nose off whenever you had to set foot outside eight months out of twelve, but terrible when it came to the general feeling of the winter holidays. Only the barest powder coated the ground in the weeks leading up to it, and by Christmas morning itself, it’d all melted into squelchy, brown muck.

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, Anna supposed. A sane person would’ve hated the snow after everything that she’d been though.

What could she say?

She had the north in her. Now and forever.

On a more cheerful note, Anna received more presents that year than she’d gotten before. Elsa, Kristoff, and Olaf had all sent presents from across the sea: a beautiful necklace, intricately carved reindeer, and macaroni picture of Arendelle’s castle respectively.

Kristoff’s present also came with an attached card that made her blush. She tucked it underneath her mattress before leaving for the morning. She didn’t need Rapunzel to find _that_ …

During the main celebration with the rest of her extended family, she unwrapped a fancy, hawk-feather quill and notebook from Eugene, a painted landscape of a wintery, ice-locked fjord from Rapunzel, and a shimmering blue court dress from Aunt Primrose and Uncle Thomas.

“Continue to make us proud,” her aunt said, pressing a light kiss on her forehead.

Apples from Maximus, various odds and ends from Vladimir and the other men she’d travelled with… even her fellow consulate members had chipped in to get her an extra large box of gourmet chocolate.

Anna meticulously rationed them out, but despite her tightest self-control, she could only make the box last a couple days into the new year.

“You went through all of them _already_?” Rapunzel asked as Anna downed the last chocolate with a slug of wine.

“Waf cannae say?” Anna mouthed. “Cholaffe an me go _fvvvvay_ back.”

The two clinked their glasses together, and then went back to their books.

It was a quiet reading night in the palace’s library, an old tradition of Anna’s aunt and uncle that the younger generation had picked up too. Eugene was particularly fond of swashbuckling adventures, recommending a new one every time he spied Anna browsing the shelves.

They were good stories too, but he had way more recommendations than she had time these days…

Anna swished her wine glass around with one hand while the other flipped the pages. She barely heard the knock at the door.

When she glanced up, her stomach dropped.

It was another messenger.

The past several months had brought with them both the surrender and annexation of Stralshagen. According to reports, the initial attack had been ordered by a distant royal cousin of the Stralshagen stewards, claiming they had more right to the Weideland throne than King Hans did. The few battles had been brief and mostly bloodless… afterwards everything looked like it’d been resolved…

And then Ostenberg had declared war on Weideland on the grounds that it should’ve accepted Stralshagen’s surrender _without_ the annexation.

From then on, the other surrounding kingdoms rose and fell like dominoes, each declaring war only to topple weeks later… and through all of it lay Weideland, completely innocent.

Never _once_ the aggressor.

The messenger cleared his throat as if knowing his news was unwanted.

“It seems,” the messenger said slowly. “Wallonia has declared war on Weideland.”

Wallonia.

The kingdom next door.

In unspoken agreement, Anna’s aunt and uncle immediately shut their books and left with the messenger.

Anna, Rapunzel, and Eugene were left in the library. As they looked at each other, a single set of questions hung in the air:

Would the war bleed over to them?

What if they were next?

* * *

Anna sat at her desk, her boots propped squarely up on the lacquerred finish. She chewed on the tip of her hawk-feathered quill as she reread the letter for the seventh time.

Someone knocked on the door and she quickly swung her feet off, smoothing her skit in an attempt to look like a proper adult.

“Come in!”

It was Rapunzel. She gave Anna a small smile.

“We missed you at dinner tonight.” She nodded at paperwork on Anna’s desk. “Wow, look at you. Prioritizing work over your stomach for once.”

Anna bit her lip.

It’d be easy enough to agree with her. To soak up the complement (well, _half-_ complement) and keep the letter to herself for awhile… pretend nothing was wrong.

Like she was capable of that.

She sighed and passed it over to Rapunzel.

“It’s from Elsa,” Anna said as Rapunzel began to read. “She doesn’t think it’s safe here anymore. She… she wants me home.”

Rapunzel’s brow creased more and more as her eyes travelled down the page.

“She has a point, you know.” she said after a moment.

“What point?” Anna demanded. “If _I’m_ not safe here, you’re not either! What am I supposed to do? Just leave?!”

Rapunzel was silent, her eyes still locked on the letter.

Anna crossed her arms.

“I mean, it’s not like Corona’s going to declare war anytime soon. Are you?”

“No,” Rapunzel said, glancing up. “But at the same time, we didn’t think Wallonia or any of the others were either. Nothing like this has ever happened before. I don’t know what’s…” She passed the letter back to Anna. “If I was Elsa, I think I’d want you home too. Just for a bit at least. Until we all figure out what’s going on.”

Anna frowned. Her sister’s tight, looping signature was etched at the bottom.

“I guess… I guess I’ll at least think about it,” Anna mumbled. At her cousin’s insisting stare, she sighed and added more firmly, “I _promise_.”


	15. Act Two: Part Five

Anna leaned out over the ship's rail and took in a deep breath of crisp, spring air.

Elsa, Kristoff, and Olaf were all waiting on the pier as the ship docked into Arendelle's harbor. Sven stood behind the three of them, a banner reading "Welcome home, Anna!" tied between his antlers.

Anna sprinted down the gangplank, ignoring the barked commands from the captain to walk. She tackled her older sister and Kristoff in tight hugs. After a small tug on her dress, she knelt down and wrapped Olaf in a similar but gentler one. Despite the magic in the small snowman, Anna still worried sometimes about crushing his torso into even smaller snowballs.

"You won't believe everything that's happened," Anna said. She stood up from Olaf and began petting the side of Sven's neck. "I mean, I'm sure there've been letters, but-"

"I know," Elsa said. She was still smiling, but there was something strained about it. "I'm really happy you've made it back here safe and sound."

"Elsa, what-?"

Anna broke off as Elsa pulled her into another hug. When Anna was finally able to step back, Elsa's smile had faded completely.

"I'm afraid we don't have much time," she said. "Follow me."

Elsa nodded at several of the castle attendants who started up the gangplank to fetch Anna's luggage, then turned and started off towards the castle.

Anna blinked for a moment before turning to Kristoff with a blank face. He merely shrugged.

"She's been like this for the past couple months," Olaf whispered in a rather piercing non-whisper. "I think it has something to do with you-know-who."

Anna stared at the snowman. "You mean Hans?"

"Hurry up! I don't want to keep the ministers waiting!" Elsa called back.

"Wait," Anna said. "The ministers?"

Kristoff frowned. "Whatever it is, it's news to me too," he said. He rubbed his chin. "I wonder if she got another letter this morning… There's been a lot of them coming in recently from all sorts of kingdoms and lords and stuff. All to do with the recent…" He cleared his throat. "…power transfers."

Elsa had stopped up ahead, this time with her arms crossed, clearly waiting for them to get a move on.

So much for a Happy Homecoming day.

Sven stayed outside as they entered the palace. Elsa navigated them silently through several hallways before stopping at pair of double doors.

The council room.

Elsa wrung her hands together as she looked between the three of them. "Kristoff," she said with a strained voice. "You can come in with Anna and me, but Olaf…"

"I can be quiet this time!" Olaf piped up. "I promise!"

Elsa smiled.

"I have a better idea," she said, crouching down to his level. "After we're done here, I'll go build an miniature ice palace in the courtyard, and we can all throw Anna the big 'Welcome Home' party that she deserves. But before I build it I need someone really talented to draw me up some plans."

"Oh! Oh! I can do that!" Olaf shouted. "See you later, Anna! See you later, Sven!"

Elsa shook her head as he bounded off down the hall and disappeared.

She turned back to the others. "Shall we then?"

Hand interlinked with Kristoff's, Anna followed Elsa silently into the council room. She'd never liked the place, even as a kid. The plain, oak table and twelve chairs in the center of the room were the sole pieces of furniture. She remembered trying to hide under it once… getting scolded…

And it hadn't gotten anymore inviting in the fifteen years or so since.

Each of the twelve chairs was filled: three older women, the rest men. They were the heads of various noble families, distinguished military generals (not that the military was used for much more than pirate control these days), scholars who'd studied in the famous universities down south and could quote exchange rates reaching thirty years back… all looking far more dour than usual.

A regional map of all the nearby kingdoms hung on the back wall. Anna winced as she noticed that all of Hans' new territory had been shaded in red. Up until now, she hadn't realized quite how much he'd gobbled up. Faint black lines still marked the old country boundaries. Anna counted them with her finger.

Five.

Hans now ruled five separate kingdoms.

"Ahem!"

Elsa stood at the head of the table, an open letter in her hands. Since here weren't any empty seats, Anna shuffled against the back wall with Kristoff. One of the generals coughed, the sound echoing in the silence.

"I have received a new letter this morning." Elsa glanced around at all the ministers. "It comes from none other than King Hans himself. He writes…" Elsa rolled her eyes. "'My Dearest Sister, I can only imagine the state of your current thoughts…'"

"Sister?" Kristoff whispered as Elsa continued to read.

"It's just a phrase. The 'traditional' way for kings and queens to address each other," Anna whispered back. She frowned. "Well, in letters at least."

"'Due to our unfortunate, regrettable history, I know you must think me the blackest of scoundrels,'" Elsa read. "However I ask you to rely upon your firm sense of rationality and not any prior judgements when I say that I am as much a victim of these strange twists of fate as you.'"

Elsa continued reading the letter, her hands moving slowly down the parchment, each word dripping off her tongue like acrid cake.

"'I hope,'" she finally said as she reached the end. "'The past can continue to be left in the past and that our kingdoms can continue to flourish from their existing cooperation.' Signed, King Hans."

No one spoke as Elsa slowly refolded the letter and slipped it neatly back into its envelope. When she was done, she held it clutched lightly in front of her with both hands.

One of the ministers coughed.

"Well," another one said. "He does have a point. No one can _prove_ that he took over those countries illegally, and all of them _are_ invaluable trade partners."

"So you need proof," Elsa said calmly. "If that man had murdered me out on the ice, alone in the storm, would you have needed the same proof? What if Anna had died as well? With no proof would you have made him king?"

Several eyes flashed towards Anna. She stared back, unsure how to correctly respond, and settled on keeping her face as blank as possible.

Stoic.

That was her. Stoic Anna.

"Your majesty," yet another minister, one of the generals, said. "Pardon my assumptions, but you seem to be advocating a break of trade at the very least."

"Is that so surprising?" Elsa said.

The table broke out into chaos. Ministers shouted at her, with her other. Hands banged against the polished wood. Anna pressed herself further back against the wall as one minster in particular started a tirade against the ceiling about the economic dangers that just a _rumor_ of stopping trade could cause.

Elsa presided over all of it with only the smallest slip of a frown.

Soon, their passion spent, the noise died down.

"Personally," one finally said. "I'm curious to know what Princess Anna thinks."

Anna blinked as the entire room's attention swiveled back to her.

"M-me?" she asked. "Why?"

"You're the one who's had the most recent acquaintance with him," he said. "Therefore you have the best current judgement of his character."

Anna felt like kicking the wall behind her.

One day. Couldn't she have had just _one day_ of rest and relaxation?

Was that really too much to have asked for?

But at the same time she had to say something. The rest of the ministers were gazing at her expectantly. Across the table Elsa stood with her arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

"So, umm… obviously, he's not a saint," Anna started. She glanced at Kristoff out of hope for encouragement, and then realized that he hadn't been there for any of the things she was about to say. "There's a… well, an opportunistic part of him that I don't think will _ever_ change. He didn't marry Princess Josephine for love, but at the same time, I mean, that's not really a _crime_. And even if he was a jerk marrying her just for her position, I don't think he _killed_ her… or her father. That is to say, there's no proof of any-" She paused as Elsa flinced at the 'p' word. Anna sighed. "What I'm trying to say is I think we should give him, and his people, the benefit of the doubt…" As the temperature dropped by several degrees, she added, "…for now."

"Thank you. Anna," Elsa bit out, "for that lovely defense of a man who doesn't deserve it." She surveyed the table with narrow eyes. "I take it you all agree with my sister."

The ministers muttered amongst themselves.

"We would never overrule you, Your Majesty," one said. "Regardless of our thoughts on the matter, we will defer to your judgement."

"But you are all agreed?" she asked.

The ministers all glanced at each other before nodding back out-of-sync.

Their answer was met with silence.

Anna bit her lip as ice started to curl its way up the side of the envelope Elsa was holding. It climbed, further and further, beforing shattering, destroying the envelope with it.

Elsa took a calm, deep breath as if nothing had happened.

"A wise queen rules with both her heart _and_ her head," Elsa finally said. "She makes the judgements she personally thinks are best for her people, but… it's also important to listen to the advice of others." She sighed. "Very well. Arendelle will maintain trade with the five kingdoms under his control… For now."

* * *

When Anna had been packing her stuff in Corona, she'd made a giant list of _all_ the things she wanted to do again when she got home: sledding through the castle hallways, actual sledding in the mountains (despite Rapunzel and Eugene's protests, the giant rock formations in Corona were hills, _not_ mountains, thank you very much), picnics by the waterfalls, plays in the square complete with Olaf's not-so-quiet commentary…

And she had raced through so many of them in her first week, checking off at least four a day. She had been pumped. She had been more than just Anna, she'd been… she'd been like a Super Anna!

…and then her energy had started to flag.

There were still things on her list she wanted to do, even more things she'd forgotten to write down… but she wasn't actually getting anything done by doing them. And she wasn't _not_ getting anything done by _not_ doing them either.

One afternoon, Anna dragged Kristoff out on a summer shopping spree. As they left the fifth shop arms ladened with bags, Anna stopped at the storefront window and stared at her reflection.

She tried a smile.

It looked okay, but it felt fake. Everything felt fake… like it was all just part of an extended vacation from her _actual_ life. The giant part of her that'd missed Arendelle was quickly getting filled up by a part that missed Corona.

Was this her fate now? To be caught between two different countries, never completely satisfied with either? Half of Anna wondered if she would've been happier never leaving Arendelle. The other half didn't want to trade those memories for the world.

Well.. not _all_ those memories.

Nothing but a small, puny dagger between her and a pack of wolves. Trudging up that mountain, feet numb, hands numb, face alternating between burning and numb as she was tugged along by a red-haired jerk. A wince as he sliced her palm open.

Anna shifted her bags over and looked down at her hand.

A line still extended across it, hair thin and pale again the rest of her skin.

Then Kristoff called out her name and she moved along.

* * *

Anna continued writing to Rapunzel. Rapunzel continued writing back. Weeks turned into months with no crazy news. Corona remained firmly Corona while Hans' kingdoms remained… well, Hans' kingdoms.

With everything settling into a new status quo, Anna tried to ask Elsa about the possibility of returning to Corona. She'd catch her sister sometimes in the hall or between bites of breakfast before she dashed off to her first meetings of the day.

Despite her best efforts, Anna could never seem to get more than half a sentence before Elsa responded with a quick, "not right now, Anna." Then she'd scoot her chair back and practically glide out of the breakfast hall.

Of course, there were always the quiet evenings in the castle library… or the rare days where Elsa took the day off and went summer sledding with the rest of them… but then Anna didn't feel like ruining the fun. Her sister was so stressed these days…

* * *

Arendelle's mid-summer festival was a highlight of the season. Ships from all over the world flooded the main harbor, old and young alikeguests flooded the ballroom, and - mostly importantly - rich, gooey cheese flooded the two-meter-tall fondue pot. Kristoff had indulged with her for awhile before getting called away to talk with a fellow Royal Ice Deliver from the neighboring kingdom.

"Ambassador Anna!"

She paused with her bread mid-dip.

That was a title-name combo she hadn't heard for awhile.

Not one to waste good food, she popped the piece in her mouth and chewed as fast as possible, thumping herself in the chest as it stuck slightly in her throat half-way down.

"Hello!" Anna said as soon as the piece dislodged. She paused, trying to remember the half-stranger's name. Her eyes widened. "Lord Renaldo! It's been forever! What brings you to Arendelle?"

"What else," the black-haired lord said, gesturing to the spectacle of the surrounding ballroom. "Is it really true the sun won't set at all tonight?"

"Nope!" Anna said in glee. "Won't for another two weeks at least."

"Oh my… Well, bless the Lord for thick curtains."

"Ha ha, I know the feeling."

The two began chatting about the current inter-kingdom affairs, with Anna sneaking a new piece of fondue-dipped bread whenever she could socially-acceptably manage. Midway through her third piece, Renaldo waved over several nearby lords and ladies Anna remembered. She mostly worked on chewing as the rest greeted her.

"Ambassador Anna!"

"Your highness, how good it is to see you again!"

"Looking in fine health I see. See, Jaques, that's that fine northern air I told you about."

"Northern air, ha! It's always been the girl herself brightens up the place," Lord Jaques said. Back in Corona she'd worked with him on a couple of projects. He turned to Anna. "Just so you know, the Coronan meeting rooms have been insufferably dingy since you've left."

"Oh," Anna said, cheeks bright red. "All of you are just _way_ too kind."

"Nonsense," Lord Jaques said. "It's only natural to miss a paperwork comrade in arms. Any current word on when you might be back?" He gave a small cough. "Or could your extended stay here be because you weren't satisfied with the work?"

"No!" Anna blurted out. "Not at all! I loved my work! I loved all of you guys! It's just… you know… well…" She bit her lip, trying to think of a way to diplomatically phrase her sister's security concerns. "Well, the situation with King Hans at the moment is very… it's very unique."

She was met with knowing nods and glances around the circle.

"But you know, Lady Anna," an older woman said. "If that's the one… issue you're concerned about, you really shouldn't be. I've seen no changes to my day to day life… have any of you?"

The rest of the group shook their heads.

"So do you plan to come back to Corona?" Lord Renaldo asked.

"Yes. Of course," Anna said, before pausing slightly. "But as for the exact date, I'd have to talk with my sister first… arrange the travel…" She gave a small laugh. "Elsa _is_ the queen, you know?"

"Oh! If you're coming back, you simply have to be back by September 17th!" Lord Renaldo said.

"Wait, September what?"

"My daughter's birthday! She absolutely fell in love with the mermaid themed party that you helped throw for her last year! Not a week goes by without her begging me to get you to throw another!"

"Oh, that was just a weekend thing that I…" Anna blushed. "I had no idea I'd made such an impact."

"So you'll be back in time for it? I'll let her know if so!"

Anna's heart pounded against her chest. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for some kind of escape, some distraction… Elsa and Kristoff were both surrounded by foreign dignitaries while Olaf seemed to be entertaining the younger guests by taking his nose in and out. In the end, Anna was left with no option but to promise Lord Renaldo that, yes, she would try and do her best to be back in Corona in time for the little girl's birthday.

Satiated with her answer, the lords and ladies slowly drifted away to other groups of chatter, leaving Anna alone to bury the unease in her stomach with more fondue.

* * *

Anna hesitated outside the door of Elsa's work room.

Once, when Elsa had turned down an ice fishing invitation so she could finish reviewing a document about lutefisk quality control, Anna had joked about renaming it the "no fun times" room. She'd gotten a single exasperated sign in response and had since learned to stay far away when her sister was trying to actually concentrate on stuff.

Which would've been fine if Elsa hadn't been spending more and more of her waking time there over the last few weeks.

Anna clutched her fist to her chest. She could do this. She'd become an expert at debating with the reflection in her mirror. Time to move up to the next level.

She knocked on the door.

"Elsa?" Anna ventured after a few seconds of silence. _Do you want to build a snowman?_ "It's Anna… Could I talk to you for just a minute?"

More silence greeted her in response.

Finally an answer came, muffled as it passed through the thick doors.

"Come in."

She supposed that was a good sign of something, part of her plan going to… well, plan.

Anna slunk into her sister's study. It felt like a miniaturized version of the council room. Every piece of furniture in the room was stark and solid, gentled only by the small flourishes of blue and white paint. On the wall to her right, hung a map of the kingdoms, differing only from the council room's one by size.

"What did you want to talk about?"

Anna tore her attention from the map to see Elsa staring at her calmly, hands folded together and resting on her work desk.

"Oh, right," Anna said. "Yes. So…" She took a deep breath. "I know, as my older sister and the queen, you're primarily concerned about my safety - and you have every right to be, _but_ at the same time… Corona _is_ our trusted ally and completely free of the-"

"Anna, if this about you returning to Corona again, my answer is still no."

Anna stared at her.

"What?! But it's- It's safe!"

"We don't know that for sure."

"You might not," Anna said, "but I _do_. How can you even say stuff like that? You've never even been there!"

"I don't _need_ to have been there to get reports…" Elsa frowned. "And regardless of your personal experiences with it, you could hardly say it's a model of-" She paused, then started again. "They share a border with Hans' kingdoms now. Corona's capital is just a day's ride away. If war broke out, you'd be trapped there under siege."

"That's an extremely _big_ 'if,'" Anna said. "Weideland never started any of the attacks, and I hardly doubt Aunt Primrose and Uncle Thomas are going to-"

"Not to mention the issue of the king's death. Still unsolved if I'm not mistaken."

Anna rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, sure," she muttered. "If you consider every single normal heart attack unsolved."

"Anna. Look me dead in the eyes and tell me you truly believe that," Elsa said. "One hundred percent. No suspicions about Hans' possible involvement whatsoever."

Anna squirmed under her sister's blue, piercing glare. She wanted to say something… wanted to lie and say, yes, everything was _obviously_ one giant, simple coincidence…

Elsa sighed.

"You've proven my point," she said. "There are just still too many unknowns right now. You're staying here until the situation settles."

"But the situation _has_ settled!" Anna cried out.

Anna took a deep breath, trying to string back all her carefully planned arguments from derailing more than they already had. That didn't work so well when her metaphorical train had already crashed off the bridge and was in free fall.

"You don't understand the work I've been able to do there!" Anna said. She bit back a groan of frustration. Why couldn't Elsa understand? "If I stay here much longer, I'm going lose my place on the consul!"

"It's just a job, Anna," Elsa said in an almost bored tone that set Anna's teeth on edge. "There's lots of work here you can do if you're that eager."

Anna's throat stung.

"Right," she said. "Just a job." She snorted. "That's rich, coming from _you_."

Elsa's eyes snapped open wide, and Anna realized she'd said the wrong thing.

"Is that what you think this is?" Elsa said. "Me trying to deliberately sabotage your dream job?" Elsa finally stood up and moved around her desk, started to reach out, but Anna keeps her hands clenched tightly in front of her, buried in the folds of her dress. Elsa frowned. "I want you to be happy, Anna. I really do. But I also want you to be _safe_."

"I _am_ safe. You just don't…"

Memories rushed back.

Elsa being escorted out of view, deliberating hiding herself out of view… the castle gates pulled shut with a dull boom, and Anna waiting for days afterwards for them to reopen before it'd finally dawned that they weren't… playing by herself in the courtyard, her one remaining access to trees and dirt and snow and the sky… watching the world go past through frosted windows…

Anna laughed.

"Great. You're keeping me safe, by keeping me locked up in here." Anna shook her head. "So much for never closing the gates again."

Elsa flinched.

"That's not what I'm-"

"Yes! Yes it is! You're being _them_!"

"Anna, there is a big difference between locking us in the castle and not wanting you to prance off to country on the brink of war!"

"It's not on the brink of war!" Anna shouted. "Something you would understand if you'd actually _been_ there!" She let out a snort. "But, wait. I forgot. The queen who knows _sooooo_ much about the world and reads _soooo_ many reports has never taken a single _step_ outside her kingdom!"

Elsa's fists clenched together at her sides, her fingers turning white from where they pressed against each other. Her chest moved in and out in slow, measured, deathly silent breaths. Anna's own breaths were coming out in icy puffs. Frost coated the nearby surfaces.

"This conversation is over," Elsa said.

She moved back around her desk and retook her seat.

"But-!"

Elsa silenced her younger sister with a raised hand.

"You've heard my opinions on this matter, and my decision is final." She paused, then gave a small nod at the door. "You may leave."

Anna stared at her sister, her mouth hanging slightly open in equal parts frustration and disbelief. She imagined herself slamming her palms against Elsa's desk, yelling about the unfairness of it all until she finally got a raw, open reaction in return…

Anna swallowed. The lump stuck painfully in her throat for a few seconds, and then she stormed out of her sister's study, slamming the door shut behind her.

* * *

The sun still hung low in the sky as the clocks chimed midnight. Anna stopped in her pacing to glare at it, and then threw her bedroom curtains shut. The room now in darkness, she flumped down on her bed.

How could Elsa…

She was just _sooo_ …

How could she not see that…

Anna let out a scream into her pillow.

Over the years, Anna had always considered Elsa an excellent debater. Someone who never let her emotions fluster her on her path to intellectual victory. Now she realized she'd been giving her sister _way_ too much credit. Debates could hardly be called 'debates' when "it's my decision and it's final" ended every argument.

Still, Anna couldn't just shut up and stay in Arendelle, regardless of Elsa's thoughts about safety.

Anna had seen Elsa's version of safety. Her _true_ version of safety: get yourself away from every other living person and lock yourself up in a giant ice palace. Deep down in their hearts, nothing had changed much… not really. Elsa's worries would win over reasoned arguments, and if Anna tried again, she'd probably end up frozen to the wall.

Anna sighed.

Well, okay. It probably wouldn't be _that_ dramatic. But there would be ice _somewhere_ , that's for sure.

And it wasn't like she could just _ignore_ Elsa and go back to Corona anyway…

Anna sat upright.

That was it.

She could just ignore Elsa and go back to Corona anyway. That is, when it came right down to it… it wasn't like there was any _law_ she was breaking by leaving. She could hardly be arrested and thrown in the dungeons until she'd learned the errors of her ways.

Well… Elsa _could_ strip her from her consul spot since it was a government appointment. But even if that happened, Anna would still be back in Corona. And after she was there a month or so… maybe two… or, okay, three assuming Elsa got _really_ upset… but after no more than three months, Elsa would see that Anna was doing just fine and was perfectly safe and there wouldn't be any reason for Anna _not_ to be reinstated on the consul.

Assuming Elsa even took her off in the first place.

Her new plan firmly decided, Anna hopped off her bed. She threw open the curtains again and sat down at her small vanity, pulling open the drawer filled with letter paper and fountain pens.

Anna paused with the point of one of the pens on her tongue - beginnings were always tricky, especially when they had to be formal - and then began to write.


	16. Act Two: Part Six

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Anna said from the floor of her cousin’s bedroom. Rapunzel paused halfway through braiding Anna’s hair.

“Are you sure?”

Anna let out a huff. “I’m sure.”

It’d been six hours since her ship had docked into Corona’s main harbor. It’d been six hours since the end of her worst ship ride ever.

Anna’s eyes drooped with shadows, a lingering souvenir of her paranoia that Elsa was going to show up, she was going to freeze the bow, she was going to push the ship back to Arendelle with her magic, she was going to get another boat to intercept them and issue a warrant for Anna’s arrest. None of it would’ve been surprising, given…

Well…

 

“What on earth are you doing?” Elsa had demanded.

Anna froze on the gangplank along with the porters that’d been carrying her trunk. She tried to motion them forward but a princess’s command held the weight of a sugar feather next to a queen’s.

“Going to Corona,” Anna said. “Obviously.”

“I thought I said ‘no’!”

“Yes, you did. And I’m going anyway.”

The sailors on the surrounding ships stopped work to watch the spectacle. At the edge of the docks, townspeople were starting to gather. Kristoff wasn’t among them; Anna had asked him to stay in the castle, prevent Elsa from finding out about her departure.

So much for that plan.

Elsa took a deep breath. “This is silly, Anna. Get these men to carry your things back to the castle and we’ll talk about this there.”

“Why is it silly? Because it’s my plan and not yours?”

“You know that has nothing to do with this.” She sighed. “Besides, using crown money for personal travel without prior consultation is—“

“I didn’t use the crown’s money!” Anna snapped. “I used my own money! Money I got from my job that you seem to hate so much!”

Ice rippled out across the dock. “That _job_ is not what’s important right now,” Elsa said between measures breaths. “And I don’t know what I have to do to make you understand that.”

“That’s because you _can’t_ do anything! That job is my _life_.”

“I can get you another one here in Arendelle.”

“No!”

“Anna… If you take another step up that gangplank, you won’t have any job to go back to! I’ll officially ban you from the consulate!”

Anna gasped, her chest tight. She wanted to scream out that Elsa wasn’t allowed to do that even as years of studying government policy had taught her otherwise.

Elsa _was_ allowed to do that.

Elsa was allowed to do almost anything.

Tears welled at the corners of Anna’s eyes. She resisted the urge to wipe them away with the back of her hand.

“Fine,” Anna bit out. “I’m going away.”

She turned around and started back up the gangplank, past the porters still frozen with her trunk.

“Anna!” Elsa called out. “I… I… I forbid you from leaving this country!”

Anna stopped.

That was one of the powers her sister _didn’t_ have. There were laws that could stop people from entering Arendelle but almost none that could stop them from escaping.

She turned back around.

Elsa remained standing on the now fully ice-coated docks, her fists clenched together at her sides. Trembling.

“The only way you can stop me is by charging me with a crime,” Anna said. “So what it will be? Sibling disobedience? Intent to have fun? Or maybe just plain, fake, old charge of treason?”

When her sister didn’t answer, Anna boarded the ship. She reassured the captain that it was fine to continue the voyage as planned, and then stowed herself away in her cabin with only the water to distract her as it sloshed itself against the outside of the hull.

 

Anna picked at the edges of her fingernails as Rapunzel resumed braiding her hair. The heat from the fireplace radiated outwards in uneven flickers. The clock on the wall ticked forward through the night.

“Because,” Rapunzel said. “If you ever _do_ need to talk—“

“I said I’m _fine_.”

“Right, right! Shutting up,” she said. “Shutting up…”

* * *

Autumn passed in an orange blur.

Despite Elsa’s official ban, Anna’s abilities and experience working with the consulate granted her special access to stacks and stacks of under-the-table work. Anna wasn’t sure how _legal_ it all was, but seeing as how she wasn’t getting paid for any of it, there weren’t any immediate budgetaryissues with any of it.

Besides, she’d drummed up enough of a positive reputation that no one wanted to spark royal sibling drama by tattling over a few smudged guidelines.

As for the Kingdom of Corona itself, despite being of the few holdouts from Hans’ seemingly ever-growing super-kingdom, day to day life went on as Anna and Rapunzel had always known it. Granted, food was a bit more expensive than before, but that could be traced back to shifting trade pacts and lingering effects of the storm two summers ago.

“Stuff just doesn’t want to _sprout_ the way it used to,” the Minister of Agriculture told Anna after one dinner.

And then, before she knew it, the kingdom was preparing for Christmas again. It was her second Christmas away from home, the second in a row.

For whatever reason, Anna couldn’t seem to let herself get swept up in the seasonal cheer. Nights became restless, mornings lost their already brittle shine.

She wanted Kristoff here, she wanted Olaf, she wanted _someone_ …

Olaf couldn’t come visit her; she’d made peace with that. None of them knew how permanent Elsa’s magic was on him or if it’d last several kingdoms away, and none of them wanted to try.

Kristoff on the other hand…

Kristoff had visited her a couple times over the past months, but he’d never been able to stay for long. Apparently while people could move freely between kingdoms, reindeers needed a special permit. One that Elsa wasn’t willing to provide. And even though Anna knew it was unfair to expect Kristoff to pack up everything and leave Sven behind to live with her in Corona and she knew just how important Sven was to Kristoff, as the months grew stormier and Kristoff’s visits grew less frequent before cutting off for the season entirely, Anna couldn’t help but lie back in her bed sometimes and think about how she was playing second fiddle to a _reindeer_.

The week before the great day itself, Anna received a letter of apology from Elsa. It made no mention of Corona though, instead promising her a place with a different consulate in a fellow northern kingdom.

Far, _far_ to the north.

Far away from corona.

Anna was more than happy to shove the letter in the bottom drawer of her desk and forget about it.

And then Christmas itself came and went with the same lasting emotional weight as the time it took to physically cross off the day on her calendar.

Oh, she went through all the usual motions: she gave and opened presents, she went into the city with Rapunzel and Eugene to watch the carolers, and she even managed a smile towards the end. But after dinner, when she’d been spoon deep in a delicious pudding, Anna suddenly began thinking about all the work she could be getting done instead.

And that disturbed her more than anything else.

* * *

The day after New Year’s was grey and drizzly. Anna ate breakfast with Rapunzel and Aunt Primrose, the men of the family apparently too drained from the weather to drag themselves out of bed. Aunt Primrose read the two girls the daily mail between bites.

“Oh,” she said, holding up one. “Wallonia’s crown prince is getting married. Well… _former_ crown prince.”

A chill swept through their table. The people of Corona didn’t like to talk about the recent changes to the royal status quo.

Rapunzel glanced at Anna then back to her mother.

“Who’s the bride?” Rapunzel asked.

“Miss Augusta Braum. The daughter of a tailor, apparently.”

“How great for them! Will it be a June wedding?”

“No,” Aunt Primrose said. “It’ll be in…” She frowned, squinting, then her eyes snapped wide. “Two weeks?!”

“Wait, what?”

“Two weeks,” she repeated. “That’s what’s written. Apparently their hearts couldn’t put it off any longer.” Aunt Primrose shook her head, then passed the letter over to Rapunzel who had her hand out.

“So,” Anna said. “Are we going to go?”

Rapunzel and Aunt Primrose looked at each other. Aunt Primrose coughed.

“Several of the roads are still blocked with snow. Not to mentioned that Wallonia’s now under—” She cleared her throat. “It will probably be fine if we just send a congratulatory letter.”

Anna clinked her fork against the purple-filagreed porcelain. “Could… I go then?”

“You?” Aunt Primrose asked.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve go anywhere new, and I’m more than used to snow travel by now.”

Aunt Primrose frowned. “Well,” she said. “You _are_ a grown woman capable of making her own travel plans. You can go anywhere you want, I suppose, but consider taking some of our royal guards along.”

“Are you sure about this, Anna?” Rapunzel asked. “A wedding sounds like fun now, but it’s the middle of winter. You’re not going to be able to see anything and you’re not going to know anyone there.”

Anna grinned. “I will if you come with me.”

“Oh, Anna. I’d love to, but…” The two looked across the table; Aunt Primrose was vigorously shaking her head in short, tight movements. “It’s just, you remember that terrible accident last month in Summershire with Princess Sybil and that old bridge? As Corona’s crown princess and, really, _only_ princess, it’s probably safer that I stay put when the weather’s a bit dodgy like this.”

Crown princess.

Right. Crown princesses were the important ones in the world.

The spares could do whatever they wanted.

“You’re probably right,” Anna said before starting to pick at the rest of her meal.

Rapunzel bit her lip. “So…” she said. “Have any idea about what you’ll wear?”

It was a ploy to get them back onto a lighter topic and Anna knew it. At the same time, lighter topics were nice. She played along.

“Oh my God,” Anna said, perking up. “I hadn’t even thought about that yet. Let’s see… if the wedding is two weeks from now, and it’ll take several days to get there through the snow…” Anna gasped. “I need to start looking for something today!”

“Oh! Mother, can I go to the dress shops with Anna?”

Aunt Primrose sighed. “If you stop talking and ever get around to eating at least a quarter of what’s on your plate, the two of you can do whatever you want.”

Rapunzel grinned at Anna, and then the two started scarfing down their food as fast as possible.

* * *

The wedding ceremony was beautiful. It took place in a beautiful ancient church with a beautiful, untouched layer of snow outside and an equally beautiful, lace-covered bride at its alter.

But as with all beautiful ancient churches in the winter, a not-so-beautiful draft blew its way in through the cracks.

Anna shivered in her newest blue gown, the priest droning on and _on_ , until the duchess sitting next to Anna had the mercy to pass her a thick shawl. Unfortunately the shawl was so comfortable that Anna forgot to pass it back after the ceremony, only remembering once the woman was no longer anywhere in sight. When the dancing started, Anna kept it draped around her shoulders as she hung against the sides of the ballroom, channeling her inner old maid.

Twenty-two years old and no closer to marriage than she’d been four years ago. Of course, Anna had no one to blame but herself. If she’d been happy in Arendelle, if she’d just… _settled down_ , they could’ve arranged a ceremony between her and Kristoff ages ago.

Assuming that was what she really wanted.

She sighed.

“Excuse me, my lady,” a voice said, tapping her on the shoulder. "Might I have the honor of having this next dance with you?”

Anna blinked. The man behind her was tall, brown-haired, and rather fetching.

“Oh,” she said. “Sure. I mean, yes. Totally.”

Because hadn’t this been part of her reason for coming? To find herself a bit of new excitement?

But despite the romantic swell of the violins, and the precision with which Anna and her partner glided around the ballroom floor, there was no spark at their touch. Nothing that sparkled between any of their light-hearted. Which… perhaps was for the best? Had Anna really been hoping for something that could potentially through a wrench between her and Kristoff after they’d been through so much together?

So when the song ended, Anna politely declined the brown-haired man’s request for a second dance and accepted another gentleman’s offer instead. And then another… and another…

After a particularly lively number, Anna excused herself from the small crowd she’d gathered to both breathe and go and raid the dessert table. She reclaimed an empty spot by the wall, hunkered down with her chocolate cake, and watched the newlywed couple dance.

Anna didn’t feel sad, exactly. Just… empty.

Rapunzel was right; she’d been childish in coming here. If she wasn’t happy in Arendelle or Corona, she wasn’t going to magically feel better by running somewhere new.

Because that wasn’t how problems worked.

Well, at least that wasn’t how _her_ problems worked.

Anna sighed and took a bite of cake that was almost too big for her mouth, chewing awkwardly as she thought.

But if her two options were to either stay in Corona and be unhappy, or go back to Arendelle and be unhappy while Elsa paraded how right she’d been in Anna’s face, Anna would stay put in Corona until… until… until her _bones_ rotted.

Not that Anna wasn’t open to compromise - far from it, seeing how it was part of her unofficial duties - but compromise was hardly an option when her sister refused to budge an _inch_.

She felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Excuse me,” yet another man asked behind her. His voice was somewhat familiar. “Such a fine evening... I was wondering if you'd possibly care to dance?”

Her mouth was only halfway through the piece of cake. She turned around, planning to let the man down easy as soon as she finished swallowing.

Anna froze.

It was Hans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo, and I am back in the saddle! Expect a new chapter every two weeks from now until December. I am knocking back the rest of Act Two and all of Act Three.
> 
> Prepare yourselves.


	17. Act Two: Part Seven

Anna coughed, slamming her fist against her chest in her struggle to breathe.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded as soon as her throat cleared. “I didn’t see you at the ceremony, or the dinner, or—”

Hans smirked. “What can I say? I like to keep a low profile.”

Anna raked her eyes up and down his figure; he was wearing a rich, navy-blue jacket that contrasted deeply against the golden epaulettes on his shoulders… and the golden crown now adorning his head.

“Low profile,” Anna repeated. “Says the king of five kingdoms.”

“Six, actually, the last time I counted,” he corrected with a hint of joviality.

Anna bit her lip.

That was the elephant lurking in the room despite his obvious cheer about it… or maybe his cheer just inflated the size. Anna had spent the past year concocting theories and pouring over field dispatches, trying to reconcile what she knew of Hans’ past with the words that’d been printed down by various spies and generals.

Of course, if he _had_ done something diabolical to gain those territories, there was no way he’d answer any of her direct questions about it.

Anna dipped into a curtsy. “My condolences,” she said.

“Condolences?”

“For the loss of your father-in-law.” She frowned. “I know it happened over a year ago, but…”

Hans took a deep breath. “Yes… you were there for that, weren’t you?”

Anna forced herself to keep looking at him.

In her mind’s eye, she was back at the dinner table, the King of Weideland gasping for air. His face was turning colors—

Anna handed her empty plate to a passing servant and crossed her arms. “Alright,” she said, deciding to ignore her own advice about direct questions. “Pleasantries are done. What’s been happening? Really?”

Hans blinked. “What’s been happening with what?”

“Ugh… You know! This!” Anna snapped, jabbing her finger at the crown on his head.

“You’re still working for the Arendelle consulate, aren’t you?”

Anna lifted an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“So you’ve been reading the inter-kingdom dispatches?”

“Well, yes. But—”

“Then you know all there is to know.”

Anna puffed up. “You really think I’m falling for that?” she warned. “That six kingdoms would all suddenly — _randomly_ — decide to declare—”

“Five,” he corrected.

“—war on you and then just all up and lose? And then sign over all their rights and lands and independence in the resulting peace treaties? Stuff doesn’t work that way.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Hans said. “Truth is stranger than fiction.”

Anna took a deep breath. “Why did they declare war?”

“I thought you said you’d read the dispatches,” he said. He ignored Anna’s resulting grumbles and pointed to the shawl still wrapped around her shoulders. “Is that a new fashion trend or are you just being weird as normal?”

Anna inhaled sharply.

First he’d knocked aside her — quite reasonable — questions, trying to make her seem like the ignorant one when it came to inter-kingdom politics, and then when that didn’t work he—

Anna exhaled in a large huff and stormed away.

Past the pastries table lay one of thefruits tables, its surface covered with exotic shapes and colors imported from all over the world, delicacies in the middle of winter.

“I never said ‘weird’ was a bad thing,” she heard behind her. Great. Hans was following her. “Everything we take for granted now probably started off as something weird.”

Anna ignored him. If he wouldn’t answer her about the things she wanted to talk about, she wouldn’t answer him. She focused her attention on the fruit table, her eyes passing over bananas, grapefruits, oranges… before settling on a basket of plain apples. She picked one up, testing its weight in her hands.

“So how are things with that Kristoff man of yours?” Hans drawled.

She paused. “You got his name right,” she said, still facing the table.

“I’m not without my talents,” he said. “Although… I can’t also help but notice he isn’t with you tonight. Going through some kind of a rough patch?”

“No,” Anna said simply. She bit her tongue against saying, _‘even if we were, it wouldn’t be any of your business.’_ Hans would find the chink in that, use it against her.

“Hmmm…” Hans made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I would’ve guessed otherwise based on the number of other men you danced with tonight.”

Anna whirled around and glared at him. He had the audacity to look pleasantly bemused.

“What do you want, Hans?” she demanded.

“Haven’t I already said?” He held out his hand. “To dance with you.”

Anna crinkled her nose as she looked down on it. “You really want the honor of being next in a long line of… what was it? ‘Other men’?”

“Not quite…” he said with a smirk.

Anna frowned, then started walking the length of the refreshment tables at a slow enough pace that he’d take it as an invitation to follow. “And if I said no?” she asked, fingers gripping the apple.

“Then I’ll keep asking.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Some people would call that stalking.”

“Mmm… matter of perspective.”

“Actually, I don’t think it is…” Her frowned deepened as she turned at him. “Why are you here, Hans?”

Hans looked around. “It’s a royal wedding,” he said. “Well, ex-royal wedding. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No,” Anna said. “I mean, why are you here with _me_? At this table? Right now? Why aren’t you off talking to the happy couple or random dignitaries or, I don’t know… someone useful?”

“Useful?”

“Yes. Useful. I know that’s all you really care about in the end,” Anna said. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “It’s okay. You don’t have to lie with me.” She looked down at the apple, turning it over in her hands. “You only cared about me at Elsa’s coronation because of our throne, and then later the real reason you needed me was to get past that barrier in the cave. You told me yourself that you only cared about Josephine because she was the crown princess. But now you have everything you’ve always wanted, so there’s no reason to—”

Anna's vision blurred and for a split-second, the apple in her hands was gold— no, had to be yellow, because apples weren't gold.

Then she blinked and it was back to its deep red.

She frowned.

“Anna?” Hans asked.

“What,” she said, not taking her eyes off the fruit.

The next thing she knew, he’d plucked it out of her grasp and was placing it gently on the tablecloth of the nearest able. He reached out his hand.

“Dance with me,” he said.

Anna stared at him.

She waited for some trumpet player to leap out of the nearby crowd and blow a sad _wah-wah-waaah_ into her ear. Instead, the conductor at the front of the ballroom tapped his baton against his music stand and a single violinist started playing a new tune…

An invitation…

Anna stared at his hand, then flicked her eyes back up to his face. He looked as honest and open as he’d been during the night of Elsa’s coronation — Anna frowned — which hadn’t actually been honest or open at all. But there’d been an angle back then; he’d been twelfth-in-line for the throne and she’d been first. If he had some diabolical scheme he was playing out where this dance fit in as a crucial lynch-pin, Anna was failing to see it.

If she was smart, she’d say ‘no.’

If she was less diplomatically smart, she’d laugh in his face and _then_ say ‘no.’

Anna sighed.

“Whatever,” she muttered. “But just the one.”

She reached out her hand halfway, then let out a small yelp as he took it and practically twirled her into place. His hand curled warm and firm around her waist as she placed hers lightly against his shoulder.

Anna swallowed, heat flushing across her cheeks. It’d been over four years since the last time they’d danced. She’d forgotten how… _natural_ it felt.

He probably practiced it though. It probably felt natural for everyone.

It probably felt natural of Princess Josephine…

Anna repeated that thought over and over to keep herself anchored. They waited for the start of the next eight-bar phrase, and then Hans began to lead her in slow, wide circles around the ballroom. They danced in silence until Anna spotted the aforementioned ‘happy couple’ through the other dancers.

Prince Frederick of Wallonia.

He’d been the Crown Prince of Wallonia… until a certain _someone_ had stolen every single scrap of independence from his kingdom.

“What is it now?” Hans asked without missing a step.

Anna realized she’d been openly frowning. “Nothing,” she said. “It’s just… Okay. Even I believe you about the dispatches being true—“

“Which they are.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Even if the other kingdoms were the ones that started the attacks, that doesn’t mean you had to go out and actively conquer them. You could’ve… I don’t know, forgive and forget? Let bygones be bygone?”

“Said no self-respecting ruler ever,” Hans said, lifting her arm into another twirl. He pulled her back close. “They were the ones that declared war on _me._ Why should I forget any of it?”

“Okay, maybe ‘forget’ wasn’t exactly the right word. I’m not saying you had to do _nothing_ , but—“

“I didn’t execute a single person after the surrenders,” he said. “That’s something.”

“Oh great. You stopped short of murder,” Anna said with a snort. “What a _shining_ pillar of moral character.”

His fingers tightened against her waist. “For someone who claims to exactly understand me, you’re sure questioning a lot,” he whispered. “I’m not a saint. If the stars have aligned for once to grant me power, I’m not going to waste the effort to give it back away.”

“And what next?” Anna asked, tightening her own grip on his shoulder. “If any other kingdoms just so _randomly_ decide to attack?”

“Then they’ll meet the same swift and just fate as the rest.”

Anna frowned.

“Why?” he asked. “Does Arendelle have any secret plans I should know about?”

Anna’s eyes widened and she stumbled; Hans steadied her.

“No!” Anna said as he led her back into the dance. “Why would—? Our kingdom’s not anywhere near yours!”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time in history.”

Anna’s face reddened, flustered. Had she just jeopardized Arendelle’s national security because of her own—?

Hans leaned close, his sideburns brushing against the side of her cheek. “Don’t worry,” he whispered into her ear. “I’m just messing with you.”

Anna snapped her head back, nostrils flaring with rage. He smiled back. She wanted to slap it off of his face, but that would cause an international incident for sure.

She settled for murderous, fuming silence.

“So any new potential suitors?” Hans suddenly asked.

Anna blinked at him. “What?”

“The other men you danced with tonight. Any of them catch your fancy?”

“I already _told_ you,” she groaned. “I’m with Kristoff.”

“Right,” he said, still way too smug about whatever he was thinking. “Right… of course.”

“And you?”

“Me?”

“Yes,” she said. “Any charming ladies stupid enough to think they can sweep you off your feet?”

“Not really. There might be one… though I’m hoping she’s not _that_ stupid.” Hans smirked at her, his eyes twinkling.

Damn it.

She’d walked straight into that one, hadn’t she? At least the music seemed like it was coming to an end. She’d be able to run away or… something.

Anna drummed her fingers on his shoulder, ignoring his bait. “But surely someone like you has been dancing tonight? An unmarried king… Dozens of unmarried ladies…”

“I’m dancing right now.”

As if on cue, the music slowed before finishing off in a low fermata. Anna stepped back from Hans and applaud politely with all the other dancers.

“Not anymore,” she said with a smile.

He scowled back, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. “I jinxed myself with the timing of that, didn’t I?”

Anna’s smile widened into a grin. “Yep.”

Hans shook his head as the violins started a new song. “Another?” he asked, holding out his hand.

Anna frowned.

“I told you, Hans… Just the one.”

“But how am I going to find another partner as good as you?”

Anna rolled her eyes and gestured with her head to the rest of the room. “Lots of choices,” she said as she adjusted the shawl on her shoulders. “I’d say start looking.”

“And you?” he asked. “What are you going to do for the rest of the evening?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know… Eat some more cake? Dance with more men? Find the castle kennel and pet some dogs? Honestly, I’m leaving my schedule kind of open.” By the way his mouth was set in a flat line, that probably wasn’t the answer he’d hoped to hear. Anna curtsied all the same with a mocking smile. “Good night, _your majesty_.”

She turned and left, and had made it to the side of the ballroom when he grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. Anna didn’t bother asking him what he was doing. She stared levelly at him and waited for a response.

Hans’ arms were locked to his sides. “You asked me earlier if I wanted to be the next man in your long line of partners,” he said.

Anna lifted an eyebrow. That wasn’t _exactly_ how she’d phrased it, but whatever.

“What if,” he continued, “instead of being the next man in line, I told you I wanted to be the last?”

Anna stared at him.

She blinked… and then snorted in laughter. “I’d say those kinds of cheesy lines are below even you,” she said.

Hans’ shrugged. “Even a king needs a queen at some point in his life,” he said without a hint of jest in his tone.

All remaining humor melted from her face. Anna stared at him, stiffly, her fists clenching at her sides.

“Don’t even joke about that sort of thing,” she said.

“Who said I was—”

“Miss!” a woman’s voice called out from across the ballroom. “Oh, Miss!”

Anna turned. The old duchess she’d sat next to in the church was making her way through the small crowd lining the edges of the ballroom. She reached them, whipped out a blue, lace-covered fan from her silver-embroidered reticule and begun fanning herself.

“Oh,” she said. “I almost thought I’d never find you again in this crowd.”

Anna was already unwrapping the shawl from around her shoulders with wide eyes. “I am so sorry!” she said. “I didn’t think I’d end up losing you like that. Thanks again so much for letting me borrow it.”

“Not a problem. Not a problem,” the duchess said as she took it from Anna and started rearranging it back on herself. “And who is this you’re…” She blinked like she was noticing Hans for the first time. She gasped. “Your majesty! I had no idea you were here tonight!”

Her voice carried across to several people around them. Like a fog blowing away in the first morning wind, they glanced over and began to murmur.

“I swear,” the duchess continued. “I must be losing my edge in these later years because I could’ve sworn I’d—”

The new crowd slowly pressed their way around Hans, distant relatives and lower officials alike hoping to get a personal word in, gain some personal favor. Anna took advantage of the rising discord to back away, slipping through them before escaping the ballroom entirely.

* * *

Anna’s buried her face against neck of a giant Rottweiler. Its tongue drooped out as she moved her hands around and began scratching it behind the ears.

“That one’s Buttercup,” the kennel master told her.

Anna looked up. “Buttercup?”

The black dog must’ve weighed at least eighty pounds, and though he was happy and content now, she didn’t want to imagine the carnage he could do to an unwanted intruder.

“My daughter’s choice,” the kennel master said with a shrug. “I let her come up with all the names these days.”

Anna smiled. Buttercup nudged against her hand, and Anna realized she’d stopped scratching. She resumed her pampering, and the dog leaning back into her, nearly knocking her onto the floor of the castle’s kennel before she stabilized herself. The kennel master nodded and went back to work, pacing the length of the room as he checked and re-filled water bowls in the cages of the other dogs.

Her hands moved from Buttercup’s ears to the underside of his neck. Mid-scratch, the dog froze and then leapt from her light grasp. He growled at the open doorway to the kennel. Sensing their brother’s unease, the other dogs started barking from behind their iron bars.

Seconds later, Hans appeared in the doorway. He wasn’t wearing his crown.

Buttercup lunged, but the kennel master grabbed his collar and hauled him back. The dog’s growls deepened into rough barks as he strained against his master’s grip; it mixed together with the rest of the echoing cacophony behind him.

“I can see I’m not wanted,” said Hans flatly.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” the kennel master said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

Anna stood. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to find you,” Hans said, like it was obvious. “Our conversation from earlier was cut off on the wrong note.”

“Oh? And what note would that be?”

Hans didn’t answer.

Anna sighed. “Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking in that weird head of yours, but just… leave me out of it this time. Please.”

“I see,” he said, the line of his already grim mouth deepening into a frown. “So that’s how things are going to be between us.”

Buttercup snarled, the sound raising the hairs on the back of her neck as the kennel master again apologized for the dog’s irregular behavior. Pushing past canine instincts and her own paranoia, Anna primarily felt annoyed. If she hadn’t just heard it with her own ears, she wouldn’t have believed it. Hans trying to _guilt trip_ her into… something? It was crazy.

 _He_ was crazy.

“There’s no us,” Anna said firmly, crossing her arms. “And that’s all your fault, remember?”

Hans took a deep breath.

“I suppose it was,” he said. He abruptly swept into a low bow. “Good day, your highness. Do enjoy the rest of your…” He eyed the snarling dog. “…evening.”

And then he left.

Buttercup continued snarling and barking at the spot Hans had stood for over a minute before the kennel master was able to calm him down.

“Who _was_ that?” the kennel master finally asked. “I’ve seen my boys and girls turn nasty before, but that was… that was something else.”

As soon as he let Buttercup’s collar go, it barrelled protectively over to Anna. She reached out a hand, stroking its fur absentmindedly. Her eyes didn’t leave the doorframe.

“I… I’m not sure I know anymore.”

* * *

Anna stretched her arms as her carriage rumbled up the streets of Corona. She’d survived yet another full-day’s journey and was aching to leap out the door and run the rest of the way to castle. Decorum won over though and she waited until the carriage had come to a complete and full stop.

A fresh layer of frost coated the cobbles of the capital; it crunched beneath her boots as she took her first steps of the past four hours.

“Anna!”

She looked up and grinned. Rapunzel and her parents were at the top of the steps. They both raced towards each other and pulled themselves into a giant hug.

“How was the wedding?” Rapunzel asked excitedly. “Did you meet anyone new? Oh, I was suppose to say dinner’s ready! I’m sure we can talk all about it then.”

Anna kept her smile on her face, but it was there by conscious choice now.

_Did you meet anyone new?_

Ha.

Ha ha.

During her two day journey back, Anna had prayed to God that no one other than the duchess had noticed her and Hans together. That even if someone had, they’d have the common decency to keep their mouth shut about it.

Oh, Rapunzel wouldn’t care too much, but if word ever leaked back to her sister that Anna had voluntarily danced with their shared, attempted murder… she was a dead woman.

Temporary madness.

Anna could always claim temporary madness, couldn’t she?

Still, based on Rapunzel’s current, cheery disposition and lack of questions, it seemed like she was safe. For now.

Anna let Rapunzel ask her question after question about the bride and the groom while Aunt Primrose and Uncle Thomas inquired about some of the older guests — second cousins of theirs — and their general health. Eugene met up with them at the dinner table.

The first course was brought out as Anna was describing the stained glass of the church that the wedding ceremony had been held in. The second course came as she was describing the capital city of Wallonia itself; she’d lingered a couple days after the wedding to see the sights.

Thank God Hans hadn’t shown up for that as well.

“Ah,” her Aunt Primrose sighed. “Wallonia has always such a beautiful kingdom.” She turned to her husband. “Don’t you remember when—”

“Yes, dear. The canals at night.”

Aunt Primrose smiled and then shook her head. “Such a shame what’s happened to it. What that… man has done.”

Anna swallowed nervously. She didn’t need to ask what man her aunt was talking about.

“Speaking of…” Rapunzel said. “He didn’t show up to the wedding, did he?”

Anna paused with her fork halfway to her mouth.

“Oh,” she said. “Umm… I…” She couldn’t lie — news from the crowd that had swarmed around Hans would definitely leak out — but she couldn’t tell her family the full truth either. “No? I mean, I don’t know? That is, if he was there, which I _guess_ he could’ve been…” Anna let out a forced laugh. “I kind of went down to the castle kennels after they cut the cake, so I missed a lot of the later stuff.”

That part was true at least.

The rest of the table stared at her, and then Eugene burst out in a force of stifled giggling.

“Eugene!” Rapunzel said.

“I’m sorry!” he said between snorts. “It’s just so _you_.”

Aunt Primrose smiled as she shook her head while Uncle Thomas seemed perplexed at the range of emotions on display around him.

Just like that, disaster was averted and the dinner’s conversation migrated to much safer topics. A couple times during dessert, Anna thought she caught Rapunzel sneaking furtive, disappointed glances in her direction. She hoped it was just her paranoia kicking in again. Her aunt and uncle didn’t seem to be noticing anything.

As soon as Anna had scooped the last spoonful of her lemon soufflé into her mouth, she stood up from the table.

“I, umm… it’s getting rather late and I’m really tired from the journey,” she said lamely.

Anna excused herself from the dining room and headed towards her room. She made it as far as the south hallway.

“Wait, Anna!” Rapunzel called out.

Anna hesitated for one final second, wondering how successful she’d be if she kept walking and claiming deafness later, and then turned.

Her cousin was standing alone in the purple-carpeted hallway. She bit her lip sheepishly as she kept her hands clasped behind her. “We…” she continued. “We need to talk.”

Anna’s stomach dropped.

Rapunzel knew.

Someone must have told her cousin about Hans after all, or she had picked up on Anna’s terrible answers at dinner, or Anna’s guilt was just that obvious, blazing right there across her face, or—

Rapunzel moved her hands out from behind her back, revealing a letter clutched between them. Anna squinted for a moment and then inhaled sharply. She recognized the blue, narrowly-looping handwriting on the front.

It was from Elsa.


	18. Act Two: Part Eight

Anna stared at the letter. “You went through my things?” she asked in disbelief.

“What?” Rapunzel said. She glanced at the letter, then back at Anna. “No, this one’s mine. My letter that Elsa sent after you didn’t respond to yours.”

Anna huffed. “Just great. This is so her. Just because I don’t write back immediately—”

“She said it’s been almost two months.”

“Why did she even write to you?” Anna countered. “You have nothing to do with us!”

Rapunzel frowned. “She wrote to me because she cares about you. She’s _worried_ about you.”

“Ha. Tell me something new.”

But even as Anna muttered mental curses, a small sliver of her was grateful. Dealing with family drama was annoying but manageable, much easier than having to explain what’d happened at the wedding between her and Hans. Based on the way her heart had almost stopped just now, Anna needed come up with a good excuse for that before the word ultimately leaked out.

“Anna…” Rapunzel said. Her cousin took a step forward, her hands outstretched, but Anna stepped back instead. Anna sniffed dismissively as she crossed her arms, turning her head to stare at the wall. Rapunzel continued, “I know it doesn’t seem fair… that it’s probably _not_ fair, but I don’t think you understand just how precious family really is.”

“Easy for you to say,” Anna said, scoffing. “You didn’t have to grow up with yours.”

Anna froze.

Her hands flew up to her mouth. “Oh my God, Rapunzel. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Despite Anna’s words, Rapunzel looked more pensive than angry. She briefly closed her eyes and took a deep breath in. “That’s exactly why I’m saying it though,” her cousin said. “The longer you put this off, the harder it’s going to be to mend things. And you’re going to have to do it sooner or later… that is, unless you’re planning on staying in Corona forever.”

Anna frowned. “You know what would make it easier to mend? If she apologized.”

“She _did_ apologize.”

Anna thought back to the ‘apologies’ Elsa had written in her own letter.

“Did Elsa say anything about my reinstatement on the consulate here?” Anna asked. “Or was it just more fancy worded stuff about shipping me back up north?”

“Well…”

Anna groaned. Just typical.

“If she’s really dying for a response,” Anna said, “you can write her one. Tell her that you actually have to _be_ sorry if you want the other person to give a flying flip!”

“Anna…”

“And that means give and take! You know, compromise! Not… repeating herself over and over until she manages to beat the other person into submission just because she’s the queen!”

Anna growled in frustration and began stomping away.

“Wait!” Rapunzel cried out. “Anna! There’s one other thing!”

Anna stopped and spun around with a glare. Rapunzel twisted the letter in her hands.

“It’s just… Elsa also says Kristoff’s birthday is coming up soon and it’d be really nice to have you home for that at least?”

Rapunzel smiled awkwardly.

Anna blinked and then groaned, burying her face in her hands.

Right. Kristoff.

‘Soon’ was a bit of a stretch. His birthday was still at least a month out, but then again… considering the week-long voyage it took to get home…

Of course, there wasn’t any technical reason that Anna couldn’t ask Kristoff to come to Corona instead. But it _did_ feel incredibly unfair. Kristoff had made four trips out so far to see her. To make him do it again for his birthday and separate him from Sven…

Great.

She was putting herself in second place to a reindeer again.

The other choice was for both of them to stay exactly where they were. Kristoff could celebrate his birthday in Arendelle without her. He’d certainly be happy enough with Elsa, Sven, and Olaf for company, not to mention his giant, extended family of trolls.

But Anna’s heart twisted in guilt just _considering_ that.

Is that really who she wanted to be? A person who flung herself at strangers — at enemies — in a foreign ballroom and then ditched out on her longterm boyfriend’s birthday just because of a petty, sisterly spat?

Somewhere along the line, she’d gotten rather terrible.

“Anna?” Rapunzel whispered.

“Not right now, okay? Just not…”

Rapunzel frowned. She stood silently for a moment before holding out the letter. “You can read it if you want?”

Anna hesitated, staring at the blue ink on its envelope. Then she grabbed it, the parchment crinkling in her tight grip, and resumed the trudge up to her rooms.

* * *

An official royal welcome party awaited her on the dock.

Anna’s fingers dug in hard against the siding of the ship. If she could see them from the ship’s current spot in the fjord, that meant they could see her. With them waiting for her, it’d be rude to retreat below deck or cross to the other side and just stare at the unpopulated forest instead. That meant she was stuck there, standing like some porcelain doll as the dock and the people on it grew closer with agonizing slowness.

Finally, several ropes were thrown out over the side of the ship. Sailors on the dock caught hold of them and helped reel the ship in.

Anna could make out the individual members of the welcoming party now. Elsa stood at the front with Kristoff and Olaf right beside to her. As Anna stared at them, Elsa looked up and their eyes caught.

Four years of ruling had only strengthened her sister’s icy gaze, but Anna managed to hold it, ignoring the urge to squirm and run. She only looked away when the captain yelled out that it was safe to disembark.

Anna focused on making her way down the gangplank slowly and cautiously. She had an ‘image’ now that she had to uphold if she wanted Elsa to listen to anything she said this trip. Only heaven knew how Elsa’d react if Anna slipped and fell before she’d taken even a single step on Arendelle soil.

Unfortunately, her calm air was ruined by Kristoffas he ran up the gangplank and swept her into his arms.

“Hey, Babe,” he said, squeezing her tight. “Missed you.”

Anna was stuck, her arms pinned and her mind too off-guard to return the hug. “Yeah…” she finally managed. “Same.”

“Anna!!!” Olaf called. He was running towards her as well, but his short legs couldn’t carry him as far and fast as Kristoff’s had.

“Only one person on my gangplank at a time!” the captain barked behind her. Olaf froze, his snowman foot hovering over the bottom of the plank. Anna twisted her head to see him jab a finger towards Elsa. “All of you fall off and _she’ll_ be the one to have my head!”

Kristoff loosened his hold and stepped back, looking sheepish. “Whoops, sorry.” He gestured towards the dock with a graceful swoosh. “After you.”

Anna smiled and continued her descent, albeit with a little less swagger. Olaf greeted her at the bottom.

“Anna!” he said with just as much enthusiasm as he had the first time.

Anna squatted down to his level and gently hugged him as he threw his stick arms around her. As she stood back up, she clutched her hands tightly in front of her.

“Elsa.”

Her older sister took a deep breath. “Anna.”

Neither of them seemed willing to make the first move. They kept their heads level and their hands to themselves. No hugs. Not even a handshake.

“I’m only here for Kristoff’s birthday,” Anna said. “Then I’m going back to Corona.”

Elsa opened her mouth like she was about to argue and then paused. “Suit yourself,” she finally said. Then she spun on her heel and strode off towards the castle.

The rest of her retinue blinked for a moment, looking confusedly between Anna and Elsa, before mumbling a series of quick “welcome home, your highness”s and rushing after their queen.

Anna stared blankly after them. Moments later, Kristoff came to stand by her side.

“You know,” he said. “She’s only—”

“Ah ah,” Anna quickly warned. “Don’t you get started too.”

“What? I’m just saying family’s really important and—”

Anna rubbed the bridge of her nose as Kristoff dove into a lecture almost identical to Rapunzel’s.

It was going to be a long two weeks.

* * *

If their greeting at the dock had been awkward, dinner that night ended up being four times worse. Maybe five times worse. Or ten.

The point was, it was excruciating.

Kristoff and Olaf did there best to charge of the actual conversation while Anna and Elsa responded for the most part with occasional, single syllable answers. And then, about halfway through, Olaf somehow managed to uncover Anna’s visit to Wallonia.

Everyone’s soup froze.

“You travelled to one of _his_ kingdoms?” Elsa demanded. Servants took away the ruined food and rushed to replace it with something less susceptible to her powers.

“It was only the next kingdom over,” Anna said with a dismissive shrug. Mentally, she cursed both Olaf for asking if she’d done anything special after the New Year and herself for instantly defaulting to the truth.

“The distance isn’t exactly what I’m concerned about.”

“Well, I went there and I came back and I’m still safe,” Anna said. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Elsa glowered as the servants placed the next dish in front of them. “Nothing…” she finally muttered.

The table lapsed back into silence. Olaf, perhaps sensing his inadvertent screw-up, tried to steer the conversation into a completely different direction, but Anna and Elsa had stopped responding to everything. It was just him and Kristoff, filling up the void.

When dessert was brought out, Elsa pushed back her chair and stood. “Thank you,” she told the servant, “but I’ll skip this one.” Anna watched as her older sister managed to practically glide her way out of the the room.

“I’ll… make sure she’s okay,” Olaf said.

The small snowman slipped out of his seat and rushed after her, managing to catch up just as the door closed behind the both of the them.

“Anna…” Kristoff started.

“I’m not apologizing until she apologizes!” Anna snapped.

Kristoff flinched. “Alright, alright… Sorry, I brought it up.”

Anna swallowed painfully, resisting the urge to bury her head against the table. Every time she opened her mouth, something worse seemed to come out. She turned her attention to the dessert instead.

Chocolate custard.

After a couple delicious bites, Anna realized with guilt that it’d most likely been picked specifically for her. Everyone in Arendelle knew how much she loved chocolate.

Perhaps Elsa herself had picked it…

Anna took another, more vicious bite, the metal of the spoon clanging against the back of her teeth.

Well, if watching Anna eat dessert had been that important to Elsa, then it was her sister’s own fault for leaving when she had. And if Elsa was hoping to make Anna feel guilty about her decision to stay in Corona or her trip to Wallonia, then she’d have to start doing a lot better because Anna was simply going to keep eating.

And she was going to _enjoy_ it.

Despite her resolution, a headache started to pound against her left temple. It grew worse and worse as the minutes passed. After dinner, Anna tried to excuse herself for the night.

“No problem,” Kristoff said. “I know how brutal that journey is from Corona to here. One last welcome back hug before you head up?”

Anna wanted to say no. Her head felt like it was splitting, and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and transfer all her worries to her pillow. But Kristoff was looking at her with such a heart-breaking open smile. He’d opened his arms and was just standing there, waiting for her.

He was impossible to refuse.

“Alright,” she said, letting him wrap his arms around her.

It actually soothed her for a moment, and then his hands began to slip down towards her waist. Anna suddenly felt the ghost of another pair of hands, slimmer and lighter… with just the faintest bit of pressure from where he’d guided her around the ballroom…

Anna flinched.

“You okay?” Kristoff asked.

“Yeah,” Anna said automatically. “Yeah, I’m okay.” She pulled herself from his grasp. “Just tired. That’s all.”

“Right…” He frowned. “Just remember, Anna. If you ever need to talk. I’m here. We’re all here.”

It was getting ridiculous now, how much he sounded like the Sami-clone of her cousin. A part of Anna bristled at the unfairness of it all: why did her friends have to be so _nice_? It’d be so much easier to sit and stew in her own miserableness if they’d all been terrible and unfeeling instead.

“Yeah,” Anna finally managed. “I know. Thanks.”

* * *

One of the good things about returning for Kristoff’s birthday was that it gave Anna an excuse to spend as much time away from the castle as possible. With both her and Elsa refusing to budge, being in the castle felt awkward on the best days and was downright depressing on the worst. So, as the days continued to warm, she’d often grab Kristoff and Sven and Olaf and spend entire days up in the mountains sledding… skiing… really doing whatever. More than once, Kristoff had to yank Anna and Olaf back from several of the more treacherous slopes.

The sun had already set behind the mountains on the far side of the fjord when they returned to the castle one day. Elsa was waiting for them in the front hall of the palace, pacing restlessly. She stopped as they entered.

“About time,” she breathed. Her eyes flicked between the small party before resting on Anna. “I need to speak to you. Preferably alone.”

“Not this _again_ ,” Anna groaned. They’d run across each a few brief times in the halls; Elsa had tried to convince her to stay each and every time. “Look, Elsa…”

“It’s about the wedding you went to,” Elsa said.

Anna froze.

Shoot.

The others gazed at her inquisitively; Anna tried to ignore them. She’d used her free time during the voyage from Corona to Arendelle to come up with some rock solid excuses, well, _a_ rock solid excuse for dancing with Hans which wasn’t even an excuse since it was mostly the truth, but that didn’t mean she wanted Kristoff finding out about it through however Elsa was about to phrase things.

Not like there was really _anything_ to find out. It wasn’t like Anna had cheated on him.

She hadn’t.

“Your study?” Anna offered.

Elsa’s mouth was set in a tight line, but she nodded. Anna left the others despite their small protests, promising she’d let them know what was going on as soon as she finished discussing it with Elsa. She followed silently behind her sister, reviewing her planned excuse in her head.

The most important thing Anna would have to get across to Elsa was that she’d done nothing wrong. The wedding had been nothing like Elsa’s coronation. Hans wasn’t some devilish prince who had swept her off her feet but, instead, a valuable source of mysterious information. Anna had merely used the dance to search for answers. Yes. That was it.

She was Anna.

Master Spy.

She’d had no other motivations. Whatsoever.

 _Liar_ , a tiny voice whispered.

They reached the study, and Anna closed the door behind them. She took a deep breath, ready to launch into her explanation—

“Really, Anna,” Elsa said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Are you trying to give me an early heart attack? What were you _thinking_?”

“It was— I was only trying to get information out of him,” she blurted out, her mouth bypassing the careful wording that her head had prepared. “And it was only one dance—”

“You _danced_ with him?!”

Anna flinched. Whoops. Apparently Elsa hadn’t heard about that part yet.

“Look,” Anna said, mentally repeating to herself that she’d done nothing wrong. She’d done nothing wrong. “It wasn’t like I went there trying to find him. He just happened to be at the wedding, and what was I supposed to? Run and hide in a corner? Scream for help?”

“If that’s what it would’ve taken to keep you away from him, then _yes_!”

“Excuse me?” Anna said, eyes widening.

Elsa groaned. “He _plays_ people, Anna. What makes you think you could ever get a speck of information out of him that he didn’t want you to have?”

Anna fidgeted, frowning. “You don’t have to be _that_ harsh about it…”

“Yes,” Elsa said. “Yes, I do because you don’t seem to—” She let out a tense sigh. “I know you went and saw him on the ship.”

It took Anna a moment to realize what the hell Elsa was talking about. It’d been years since they’d found Hans drifting in the open sea…

“Really? You’re bringing that up now?” Anna said with a scoff of disbelief. “That doesn’t even have anything to do with— He was half-dead when we found him. I was just making sure you didn’t finish up the job.”

“Oh,” Elsa said, crossing her arms. “So now _I’m_ the threat?”

Anna winced. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Elsa took a deep breath. “I specifically told you not to go near him,” she said, ignoring Anna’s apology, “and you disobeyed me.”

“And I already specifically told you, you’re not my parent.”

“Yes,” Elsa said. She ran her fingers through her hair. “But I’m your older sister, so it’s still my responsibility to protect you, and I don’t know how to get _through_ to you that he’s dangerous!”

“If he’s that dangerous, how did I survive a full week with him out in that blizzard?”

“You survived because he needed you,” Elsa said.

A chill crept along the back of Anna’s spine, Elsa’s words reflecting all her old doubts and insecurities. Anna had worries about the same thing once upon a time… still worried about it, occasionally. If Anna kept arguing, she’d only be arguing against herself…

But to stop arguing would mean she’d lose.

“We don’t know _what_ he wants now,” Elsa continued. “Anything could happen.” She clasped Anna’s hands between her own. “I’m… I’m just scared, Anna. Okay? I don’t want to lose you to him.”

Anna swallowed and forced herself to look up from their joined hands into Elsa’s eyes.

It hurt. When it came right down to it, Anna _didn’t_ want to argue like this. All she wanted was to be able to run far off into the horizon, make her own decisions, figure her life out by herself… Elsa meant well, but she only had half the pieces, only had half the story.

Anna pulled her hands from Elsa’s. “You’re not going to lose me,” she said firmly. Then she threaded her fingers together and tilted her chin up. “Is there anything _else_ you want to talk about?”

Elsa frowned. “Anna…” She sighed and then turned away, trailing a hand over the pine finish of her desk. “No… Do whatever you want.”

Anna almost caved at her sister’s heartbroken tone, but she caught herself at the last second. This was the way Elsa played the game, and until she was willing to admit that Corona was perfectly safe, Anna had to play it right back. She nodded silently and took her leave. When the door closed behind her, she leaned her back against it and took a deep, shuddering breath.

As nice as it’d be to stay there a moment to clear her thoughts, Anna had to get moving and find the others. If Elsa had found out about her meeting with Hans, it’d only be a matter of time before the news spread to the rest of the castle.

Anna just hoped Kristoff would react to her junior spy attempts better than Elsa had.

* * *

“You don’t _have_ to go back, you know,” Kristoff said.

“Of course I do.”

Anna went around her bedroom, checking for any last essentials that she’d forgotten to pack. She got on the floor, stuck a hand under her bed, and felt blindly until her fingers gripped around her favorite tortoise shell comb. Kristoff extended a hand and helped pull her back to her feet, but once she was up he didn’t let go.

“Stay here,” he told her.

“Kristoff… you know why I can’t.”

She tugged her arm free and went to drop the comb in her smallest traveling bag.

“Why you can’t?” he asked. “Or why you won’t?”

Anna froze. “Please, Kristoff,” she begged. “Not you too…”

“Look. Anna, I know you love this, and the last thing I want to do is stop you,” he said. “And I’m fine with our visits. I _love_ our visits. This birthday party… it was the best birthday party I’ve probably ever had. But our future has to eventually start being something more than just visits.”

_Why not?_

Anna bit back the selfish response. After her talk with Elsa, she had told Kristoff all about the wedding and running into Hans, including the part about him asking her to dance. Kristoff had listened without interruption and had nodded when she’d finished.

“You did your best,” he’d told her.

And that’d been the end of it, because Kristoff was just that kind of a person. He was good. Just so… so good.

Anna was starting to wonder if she actually deserved a person that good.

“Elsa—” Kristoff started, ignoring the way Anna scowled back at him, “—she has a point about your job being kind of flexible. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but you could easily get a position in the consulate of another kingdom. Like Nordheim. They’re right next door… or near enough. It’s only two days by boat. Five if I go over the mountains with Sven.”

Anna shook her head with an exasperated sigh. “I wouldn’t need you to go over the mountains.”

“No,” Kristoff admitted. “But I’d want to.” He flashed her a smile which she tried to, shakily, return. “Just… think about it, okay?”

Ann knew she was being the petulant one. If she worked in a nearby kingdom, it’d be better for everyone. It’d probably even be better for her. And she’d get just as much useful work done there as she did in Corona… probably more, given that she wasn’t an official member of that consulate anymore.

Spoiled.

That’s what she was. A spoiled little princess who kept running off between kingdoms because she didn’t get her way.

Then again… if she was spoiled, what did that make Elsa?

“Okay,” Anna finally told him. “I’ll think about. Really. I promise.”

She hugged Kristoff and then fastened the clasps of her traveling bag. Her ship back to Corona wasn’t due to leave for another several hours, but the more things she had ready and on board ahead of time, the less excuses Elsa had to keep her from leaving with it. Kristoff offered to carry her bag to the docks for her and she let him.

As they walked through the town, Elsa was nowhere in sight. The two sisters had made a round of solemn goodbyes at dinner the last night… Anna didn’t know if those had been their final goodbyes or if Elsa was planning on showing up later that day. She pushed aside the clenching feeling in her gut.

They arrived at the ship and Kristoff passed her travel bag to one of the porters. Anna reached out clutched Kristoff’s hands.

“Promise you’ll keep writing?” she asked.

He gave her a light kiss. “Each and every—”

Chaotic squawks pierced the air as a loud, clattering noise echoed from the town square. Anna frowned. Seconds later,palace soldier on horseback emerged from the crowd and galloped along the docks.

“Stop!” he called out. “Stop the ship!”

A dark pit of rage simmered in Anna’s stomach. Of all the ridiculous things for Elsa to pull… Anna glared at the guard as he pulled to a stop in front of them.

“Where’s the captain?” the guard said as he dismounted.

“Here,” a gruff voice responded, descending the gangplank. “What is it?”

“Urgent message from the palace.” The guard passed a small scroll to the captain.

The captain unrolled it, and his eyes instantly widened. He muttered low beneath his breath while his hand made the sign of the cross.

Anna ran out of patience. “Look, if Elsa has banned you from leaving port because of me, don’t listen to her. She’s not allowed to—”

“It’s not that,” the captain said. “Though I wish it was. Here.”

He passed Anna the scroll with trembling hands. Anna was almost afraid to take it, at a loss to what else it could be, but managed to reach out all the same. She was conscious of Kristoff leaning over her shoulder as she opened it to its full, short length. The message read:

_Plague outbreak in Corona. Borders closed. All trade and travel vessels, remain where ported._


	19. Act Two: Part Nine

The month passed with nerve-wrecking slowness.

Travel between the two kingdoms continued to be banned, and Anna remained stuck in Arendelle, just another helpless spectator to the ever-growing disaster. Elsa, to her credit, didn’t bring up the failed voyage or how Anna had managed to stay safe by being in Arendelle at the time. She also didn’t bring up the topic of Anna’s eventual return — because the second the plague cleared up, Anna was getting on the first ship she could find — but Anna didn’t know if her sister’s silence stemmed from respect for the situation or smug knowledge that Anna finally wasn’t going anywhere in the near future.

Messages came through about once every two weeks, slipping through the few approved holes in the border closures that they had. Through those, Anna learned that — although several people she knew were in critical condition — none of them had actually gone as far as _dying_ yet.

Lucky her.

At the five week mark, Anna finally accepted a temporary position with the small Nordheim delegation that was stationed within the city. She was mostly only there to help grease wheels and provide local insight, but it was something. Listening to the Nordheim ambassador go on and on about his bee farm back home was still better than worrying every single minute of every single day about the chaos happening several hundred miles to the south.

A part of Anna hated herself for it. Taking the job meant that she’d finally sold herself out. That Elsa had won.

And then she hated herself immediately for thinking such things.

In a normal situation, yes, Anna could be allowed to hate herself, but this _wasn’t_ a normal situation. She had friends who were fighting for their lives, and here she was complaining about drinking wine and having to listen to bee farm lectures. Until the plague cleared, everyone just had to do whatever they had to do to keep things working and then maybe… just maybe, clearer skies would be up ahead.

The next message Arendelle received seemed to confirm that. New cases were dropping, and while there’d been a number of deaths, the royal family remained safe and healthy. It took everything in Anna’s power to not rush down to the docks and try and book passage right then and there.

Then another message arrived.

Corona’s luck had dipped again.

The rains stopped and didn’t pick up again. Reports flew in off crops withering all across the kingdom, the dirt in their fields cracking apart as they gasped for even the tiniest drop of moisture. Anna remembered several conversations she’d had with Corona’s Minister of Agriculture and the constant concerns he’d had for their recent production rates. Her cousin’s kingdom had already dipped low into their food reserves after the blizzard, and they hadn’t been able to replenish them in the few years since.

“Don’t even think about it,” Elsa told her when the travel bans from the plague finally lifted. “You’d just be another mouth to feed.”

Anna had argued back but ultimately lost because Elsa _did_ have a point this time. It was the height of summer and Corona was officially out of food. Reports came of riots in the countryside, where farmers without food had begun to fight the ones who had individually stockpiled it.

She didn’t want to imagine what reports there’d be come winter.

Elsa wrote to their aunt and uncle, assuming them that Arendelle would lend whatever aid she could.

Anna wrote as well, mostly to Rapunzel and mostly about the stone that she and Hans had discovered in the cave: was it still there? Was it acting strangely or shining differently or anything?

She wasn’t sure whether Rapunzel’s response was comforting or not.

Apparently the stone was fine. It was still in its vault and still under guard and still shining the exact same way it’d been shining for the last three years. There was nothing to worry about on that end.

Nothing rational, anyways.

Then the ships from Corona — and the letters they carried with them — simply stopped.

Anna immediately assumed the worst, dissolving into a bundle of nerves that fluctuated wildly between cheerful overcompensation and rambling depression.

“I should’ve gone anyway,” she told Kristoff one day. “Despite Elsa.” They were huddled together on a couch in the palace library. “I should’ve ignored all her stupid travel bans and feeding mouth talks and gone to Corona anyway.”

“Yes, and what difference would that have made?” Kristoff asked. “You couldn’t have done anything to stop that plague. You couldn’t have done anything to prevent this drought.”

Anna frowned, wrenched with guilt all the same.

“I could’ve tried,” she mumbled.

Meanwhile, Elsa drew further into herself and her rising wave of queenly duties. She began to skip most meals, spending most of her time in various meetings and the rest cloistered alone in her official study. Several mornings, Anna poked her head into her sister’s bedroom with a fresh tray of breakfast only to find the room empty and the bed completely untouched from the night before.

Despite the hopeful words everyone kept telling each other, they were all slowly losing themselves.

Then — one month after Corona’s messages had initially stopped — a new one arrived: an official announcement that the kingdom had decided to save themselves by abandoning their sovereignty and joining the six kingdoms already under Hans’ rule.

* * *

Anna fiddled with the shoulder straps of her dress, trying to seem confident and composed while simultaneously taking in the faces of every single person in the packed council room. She stood rigidly against one of its walls along with a number of other foreign lords and dignitaries.

Kristoff glanced sideways at her. “You look fine,” he whispered, before pulling her fidgeting hand down to their sides, keeping it intertwined with his.

She nodded silently.

All of the monarchs from the surrounding Northern kingdoms were sitting at the table in the center of the council room. Elsa sat at its head, the banners of Arendelle unfurled wide behind her.

“You all know why we’re here,” she told the room in a calm, measured tone. “Hans of the Southern Isles has conquered — yes, _conquered_ — seven kingdoms through a combination of deceit, unknown trickery, and murder.”

A flurry of whispers echoed around the room; Elsa waved a hand and silenced them.

“It’s not diplomatic to say, I know, but at a certain point our constant need to soften reality with words becomes a great weakness,” she continued. “We have all noticed the _‘coincidences’_ that have followed this man around like a second shadow. I, for one, hardly believe that it was only coincidence that killed both Weideland’s crown princess and its reigning king just months after he married into their family. Nor do I believe in any coincidences that simply handed him the keys to six separate kingdoms soon after.”

“Coincidence isn’t the issue here,” the king of Vestmar suddenly interrupted. “It’s proof. He stole these kingdoms, yes, but the people living in them don’t seem to be any worse for the wear. Quite the contrary. It’ll be hard to level any charges against him while he still has a loyal following.”

“If we wait for proof, it will be too late to do _anything_ ,” Elsa said. “Use your eyes. In just two years, he’s conquered nearly half the Southern lands. It’s only a matter of time until he sets his sight northwards. We have two choices: wait for that inevitability… or take action while there’s still time.”

Anna swallowed in dread as the table dissolved into hushed murmurs, monarch consulting with neighboring monarch.

There was a soft squeeze around her hand. She glanced right, then up, to see the corner of Kristoff’s lips lift in a reassuring half-smile. It didn’t do anything to pry open the tight bands currently wrapping themselves around her stomach.

“Queen Elsa is right,” one of the older kings announced. “If I had a gold crown for every underhanded plot in history that’s never had its culprits dragged kicking and screaming into the light… Well, the point is, we can’t just wait here for things to unfold. The people of Romsdal will never be subject to the people of Weideland.”

“Neither will the people of Nordheim!”

Around the table, there were similar vows of independence.

“This is all good talk to be sure,” the queen of Fjordane said. “But what, Queen Elsa, do you propose that we do? While the Kingdom of Fjordane is proud, we also know our limits, particularly when it comes to size and strength of arms. I would hate to start shedding unnecessary blood without something to actively rally behind.”

“There’s no need for any blood to be shed,” Elsa told them. She breathed deeply as she surveyed the other monarchs. “I propose a reforged Northern alliance. We will unite and cut off all trade with any kingdom that has fallen beneath Hans’ rule.”

The room erupted in furious whispering from lords and ministers alike; an embargo against the south wouldn’t cost direct lives but it would devastate trade, destroying the livelihood of hundreds… no, thousands of sailors and merchants and artisans and even farmers…

The king of Vestmar cleared his throat.

“I know we don’t want to go as far war,” he said. “But an embargo of that magnitude is also… rather… direct.”

“That’s the point,” Elsa said. “Hans has gotten as far as he has because he’s been able to pick us off one by one. I won’t lie… there _will_ be sacrifices involved. For all of us. But our combined unity is the best defense — and the best offense — that we have against him.”

There was more hushed murmuring, the kings and queens that had sat equally-spaced around the table leaning to their lefts and rights as they split into smaller subgroups. Thousand-year-old alliances and grudges were bubbling to the surfaces.

The queen of Fjordane cleared her throat.

“Perhaps,” she said, looking around at the people lining the walls of the crowded room. “We could continue this discussion in private?”

Several seconds of silence rippled through air before it was shattered by an indignant uproar. Men and women, natural born lords and elected officials alike pressed forward, some banging their fists on the table while others merely shouted about how such a grave decision couldn’t _possibly_ be made without their wise council.

Despite the noise, the other monarchs quickly stood behind Fjordane’s queen. Elsa signaled to several of the palace guardsmen and together they herded anyone not wearing a crown — including Anna and Kristoff — from the council room.

Anna looked back one last time. Elsa was back to sitting at the head of the table, her hands interlaced and locked in front of her. She was looking in Anna’s direction, but her focus seemed to be on a point somewhere behind Anna… or in front of her…

Someone jostled Anna as they both crowded their way through the entrance way, and Elsa disappeared from view. The doors were pulled shut a second later.

Anna stared at them, frowning, until Kristoff grabbed her hand and pulled her away. They hung out with the rest of the ticked-off nobles for another half hour until they both agreed that their time was probably better spent doing _literally_ anything else.

As they made their way to the stables to check on Sven, Anna tried not to think about just how little the fate of her own country rested in her hands.

* * *

“Can we open our eyes yet?” Anna asked.

“Noooooo!” Olaf shouted back.

Anna shook her head with a sigh but kept the smile on her face. She waited patiently with Kristoff beside her as the squat snowman put his finishing touches on whatever he’d planned for both her and the children that’d gathered in the large, open field north of town.

In the end, the northern monarchs had decided to pass the embargo against Hans’ kingdoms. Anna understood Elsa’s decision, and supported it wholeheartedly like the majority of the kingdom, but just because there was support, didn’t mean there weren’t any challenges. Certain things were harder to get in the north: temperate fruits and grains, raw lines, gears and other complicated little bits for clocks and stuff…

Okay, so clock parts probably weren’t that important in the grand scheme of things, but still. The point was, Arendelle — all the northern countries — had taken a hit on some pretty big essentials.

Because of that, Anna had joined forces with Olaf to become Arendelle’s Co-Chief Officers of Morale. It was a title and position that basically meant they did whatever fun, free stuff they could think of with the town children and whoever else felt like joining them.

“And ready!” Olaf finally said. “NowpresentingthefirstannualSnow-Babyolympics!!!”

Anna opened her eyes. So did the mob of kids around her, crooning with perfectly placed oohs and aahs.

The field was entirely covered with the army of Snow-Babies that Elsa had accidentally created back on Anna’s 19th birthday. They were split into five groups, each group wearing different colored bandanas as they hopped and jumped and ran around a miniature stadium that Olaf had made out of numerous logs and stones. A sign reading “1st Annual Snow-Baby Olympics” had been hung between Sven’s antlers.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to use any cloth in this stuff,” Kristoff whispered beneath the kids’ cheers.

Anna looked at the bandanas, then back to Olaf as he began passing out similarly colored flags to the crowd. “I’m sure we can turn a blind eye just this once,” Anna told him. She smiled as Olaf gave her a flag as well. “Woo! Go Team Red!”

It didn’t take much for her to convince Kristoff to grab his own blue flag. Everyone separated into their new cheering areas, and the games began.

The running events were up first, the tiny Snow-Babies lining up behind an equally tiny line of pebbles.

A short girl at the back of the red team started crying that she couldn’t see anything, so Anna lifted her up onto her shoulders. Seconds later she was cheering louder than anyone. Anna winced, the girl’s high-pitched shrieks piercing her eardrums, and then caught Kristoff’s eyes from where he stood across the field. He nodded at the girl on her shoulder and lifted his thumb.

She lifted her thumb back… and then wobbled. The girl shrieked, and Anna only just managed to steady herself before they both went tumbling to the ground. Her legs locked as she stared straight forward, her face flushing in embarrassment.

That was Anna.

So good with kids that she almost murdered them.

That had been _one_ good thing about the embargo, Anna supposed. She’d never been immune to talk and whenever any of the townswomen saw her and Kristoff hanging out with the kids… well, let’s just say Anna was glad that, between the embargo and the rationing and everything else, any talk of either marriage or expensive marriage ceremonies had been put on hold.

Not that that she didn’t _want_ those things, she just… wasn’t ready for them yet.

Of course, it’d been five years since Anna had realized how immature and unready she’d been, and she didn’t feel like she’d made that much progress in the grand adult scheme of things. What if there was no magic moment that would make her ready? What if she kept waiting and waiting for some non-existent sign and one day she looked back and—?

The field erupted in cheers.

One of red Snow-Babies had crossed the finish line just breaths ahead of the green one. The yellow one came in third, with the blue and brown ones trailing after. Anna grinned at Kristoff and relished the way he shrugged back in defeat.

Next came the hurdling events, then the weight lifting ones. The sight of the Snow-Babies grunting with exertion as they lifted twigs with small stones tied to each end made Anna snort in laughter and she suddenly wished Rapunzel was there to capture the moment on canvas.

And then she sobered.

Rapunzel…

It’d been two months since the embargo and they hadn’t gotten any messages from Corona or its royal family yet.

Well… Anna had technically gotten one letter, Rapunzel supposedly writing that she was fine and that there was nothing for Anna or her sister to worry about.

It’d been been way too generic.

Bland even, with nothing about Hans’ conquest or the famine that had ultimately pushed her kingdom into his arms. Nothing about the fact that she was no longer a princess.

Nothing about the fact that her family was no longer anything.

One of the kids poked at Anna’s legs, and Anna forced herself to smile. After all, she was a Co-Chief Officer of Morale.

It was her duty to smile.

The weight-lifting ended with the yellow team victorious, and then the stadium was cleared to make room for the next event: creative dancing. Anna somehow doubted that’d been an actual event in ancient Greece, but it was a certainly entertaining one. As Kristoff played accompaniment on his lute, the little girl that Anna had been holding slipped off her shoulders and ran forward with a couple of the other children. Before long the human spectators and the snowmen competitors had completely merged, Olaf’s grand olympics forgotten in favor of an impromptu dance party.

Anna hung back, content to silently supervise until Kristoff made his way over. She lifted an eyebrow at the way his hands continued to pluck their way over the strings.

“Don’t tell me _you’re_ going to ask me to dance?”

“Me? No, gotta keep playing,” he replied. “But Sven on the other hand…”

Anna let out a shriek as the reindeer shoved against her back, knocking her forward into the herd of children. One of the blue team girls grabbed her hands, and just like that she was pulled into the dance.

There was an incredibly dizzying silliness to it all. Anna laughed as she quickly assumed the man’s role, spinning the girl around like she’d always loved doing when she was younger. Like she still loved, to be honest.

Kristoff finished one song and was in the middle of the next when a white snowflake fell onto Anna’s wrist.

Then another.

And another…

Anna stopped dancing and looked up. Clouds had gathered above them, snow drifting gently down from their murky centers. She frowned. It was still September, which meant…

Oh no.

Anna turned her head towards the town. The clouds were thicker there, the snow already coating the ground in a pure layer of white. Kristoff stopped playing. A hush quickly fell over the field, punctuated only by tiny squeaks from the Snow-Babies who were too little to sense anything beyond the immediate joy of unexpected snow.

“Watch the kids,” she told Kristoff. “Make sure they get back to the town okay.”

Anna ran to Sven and tried to untangle the Olympics sign as carefully and quickly as she could from his antlers. She wished she could just _rip_ it off and get moving already, but she also knew how much time and effort Olaf had put into this day.

“Anna…” Kristoff said.

Her fingers managed to untie the last knot, and she climbed up onto Sven’s back. “I’ll meet you at the castle.”

Kristoff took a deep breath and then nodded. “Stay safe.”

Anna nodded back, and then tapped Sven lightly against the neck. They took off down the hill, Anna praying that she could stop whatever this was before it got any worse.

* * *

“Elsa!”

With a couple helpful points from the palace staff, Anna found her sister in the throne room, pacing across the wooden diamond in its center as the floor and walls coated themselves with sheet after sheet of ice. Elsa briefly looked up as Anna entered, then turned her head back down and continued to pace.

Anna hesitated at the door before closing it behind her and stepping forward. Her feet nearly slipped on the frictionless surface. She steadied herself and then continued forward again, taking a painfully slow time to finally reach her sister.

“Elsa, what—?”

“Read,” Elsa snapped, shoving an ice-covered scroll into Anna’s chest.

Anna winced at the cold against her bare hands but couldn’t do anymore than that. Her sister’s magic had turned into a cylindrical ice block and there was no way to unscroll it anymore. Anna awkwardly cleared her throat.

Elsa blinked and then sighed. “Sorry. It’s… it’s Vestmar.”

Anna frowned in confusion.

“They defected,” Elsa continued. “To Hans.”

“What?!” Anna gasped. “But they promised they wouldn’t—!”

“Right. Go and tell that to them.” Elsa snatched the scroll back from Anna. The ice that’d been coating it vanished and she unfurled it. “The Kingdom of Vestmar regrets to inform me that due to the small nature of their kingdom, they don’t have enough stockpiled to make it through this upcoming winter. Therefore they see that they have no choice but to reforge the old, traditional links of trade that have long been the foundation of their people’s stability.”

Elsa snarled and hurled the scroll away.

“Why couldn’t they have just asked us for help first?!” she demanded. “That was the whole point of this! Not to—” Elsa sunk to the floor. “Now we’re even weaker than before… he planned this. He somehow planned _all_ of this.”

Anna bit her lip.

Despite Elsa’s rage, Arendelle itself was on rations now and wouldn’t have been able to support Vestmar even if they _had_ asked… but Anna knew that wasn’t the right thing to say at the moment.

Anna lowered herself onto the floor, next to Elsa. “But we’re not weaker. We’re strong. Strong in a way that he’ll never be able to understand.”

“And what way is that?”

Bluff called.

“In… in… determination?”

Elsa laughed and the broken sound sent chills up the base of Anna’s spine. “If that was true, none of this would’ve ever happened,” she said. “This… this…”

She screamed and slammed her fists against the floor, jagged spirals of ice shooting outwards.

Anna stifled a yelp of surprise; she stared at her sister, heart racing. She didn’t know what to say to help… what to do… Anna glanced up at the ceiling, picturing the sky beyond. She knew that the storm clouds were continuing to gather there, that an early blizzard was the last thing they needed with winter soon around the corner.

“Elsa?” Anna asked tentatively.

“What?” Elsa said, her voice breaking across just the single syllable.

Anna swallowed. “Well… It’s just…” She knew it was probably a bad idea to directly confront the problem. Last time she’d tried it, she’d gotten a shard of magical ice wedged in her heart. But her only other option was to ignore it, and that was no good either. Besides Elsa had control of her powers now. Things would be okay. “There’re kind of these snow clouds above the town again and…”

Elsa’s face darkened, and Anna inhaled sharply.

Just great. She’d made things worse.

Again.

Elsa took in a deep breath and then let it out in one continuous, shuddering stream. There was the sound of a small, half-muffled sob as Elsa buried her face in her hands. Anna stared in shock — Elsa didn’t do this. Elsa _never_ did this — and then she wrapped her arms around her sister, offering up her shoulder as a pillow.

As Elsa began to cry, the ice gradually melted around them. Unlike the way her normal ice vanished into nothingness though, it stayed in the throne room as water, drenching wood and walls and low-hanging tapestries alike.

Still. It was better than the ice.

“I don’t know what to do,” Elsa said into Anna’s shoulders. “We all promised we wouldn’t break and now… It’s only a matter of time until he gets to the others. He’s going to conquer us. He’s going rip through us all like he did the Southern kingdoms and there nothing I can _do_.”

Anna’s fingers pressed further into her sister’s back. She looked past her, at the rest of the throne room. There was a ghost of an old memory there, the room crowded with dancing bodies… Anna, herself, as she was knocked to side, was tripping and falling, only to be rescued by a dream with red hair…

By a nightmare.

The same nightmare who’d later saved her from a pack of wolves. The nightmare who’d fallen in the snow, lost in his own despair until she’d managed to drag them both forward by nothing but sheer willpower. The nightmare who’d leaned in close… who’d left her lips tingling after just the faintest brushes against his…

The sound of a fresh sob yanked her out of the memory.

Right. Elsa.

Elsa was the important one.

Hans was just somebody. A man who’d made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with Anna with just a dozen short, cutting words. He was the one behind this all. The one currently making Elsa cry when Elsa never cried.

But even despite that logic, a part of Anna still wanted everything to be a crazy coincidence after all. She wanted to believe that — not that Hans had changed, because she wasn’t an idiot and she didn’t believe someone like him could change who he was quite on _that_ scale — but she wanted to believe that he at least _respected_ her now? Or something.

She wanted to believe that he thought just enough about her, after all they’d been through, not to do things like…

Anna’s arms tightened around her sister.

…well, like this.

Anna pushed against her sister’s shoulders, forcing Elsa to look her in the eye. “Listen to me,” Anna told her. “We are _not_ going to let him win, okay?”

“But—”

“You said it yourself, didn’t you?” Anna took a deep breath. “We have two options: sit and do nothing as he continues grabbing kingdoms… or take steps while we still have time.”

Elsa frowned. “But we already stopped all trade with him and he didn’t even flinch.”

Anna closed her eyes.

She couldn’t believe that she was the one about to say this. To suggest it. It went against every single peace-keeping and status quo lesson that’d been drilled into her when she’d still been on the Corona consulate. Even as she opened her mouth, determined to say them, the words got stuck in her throat.

How could they not?

Anna opened her eyes. Elsa was still staring at her.

“Then we take a step further,” Anna said.

Elsa blinked back, her brow creasing, before her eyes opened wide. The sudden realization of what Anna was implying seemed to calm her and she sat back, wiping her red-rimmed eyes completely dry.

“You mean war,” she finally said.

The word echoed hollow against Anna’s chest. Echoed painfully against her heart.

But Anna’s heart wasn’t what mattered. Not in this. For Elsa’s sake… for Arendelle… she had to harden those soft, manipulatable parts of her. She had to start acting and thinking with her head for once, and after all the other things she’d memorized and crammed in there over the years, she no longer had any room for triple-guessing the intentions of a man who’d already made his choices and had already betrayed her family years ago.

“Yes,” Anna said.

Elsa stayed silent for a moment before pushing herself back up onto her feet. As she resumed her pacing, she finally noticed the water she’d left on the throne room floor. With two waves of her hands, it refroze and then disappeared entirely. She clasped her hands together as she turned to Anna.

“Do you think the people will approve?”

Anna considered it. When she finally spoke, the words that came out were definitely hers, but they didn’t feel quite like _her_ either. “They know Hans tried to kill you. That he tried to kill us. They’ll approve.”

Elsa paced two more short, silent lengths. “And the other kingdoms?”

“Vestmar’s closet ally was Romsdal, and Romsdal was one of the first supporters of the embargo,” Anna said. “They’ll see the annexation as a personal attack against their kingdom. If you’re worried about support from the others, write to them first. They should be able to persuade the rest if they aren’t trying to already.”

Elsa stopped and stared at Anna. For a second, Anna thought her sister was about to break into tears again but then she recomposed herself. “You,” Elsa finally managed. “I can’t believe you grew up and I didn’t even notice.”

Anna blinked.

“Well,” Anna said with a shrug and a series of awkward chuckles, the only way she knew how to respond. “Nobody’s perfect?”

Elsa grabbed Anna’s hands. “Anna, I… I’m so sorry for everything. Everything that I’ve said… everything I’ve done. It’s just.” She took a breath. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Anna swallowed.

There was a slight sting beneath the raw openness of her sister’s apology. A nasty voice whispered that Elsa would’ve never said any of it if they hadn’t _both_ been pushed to the edge like this, that it still wasn’t a true apology was still stuck in Arendelle like Elsa had always wanted, but at the same time…

“Same,” Anna replied.

They stayed in the center of the throne room, the silence pressing in around them. Elsa cleared her throat. She looked towards the front doors that still were still isolating them from the outside world.

“As soon as we walk out of those doors,” Elsa said. “That’s going to be it. There’s going to be no taking this back.”

“I know,” Anna said.

Elsa was silent.

“We have the power to win though,” Anna told her. “Hans… He won’t know what hit him.”

Elsa turned to Anna. “You really think that?”

“We…” Anna started. Doubt wrapped itself around her lungs and squeezed. “We kind of have to. I think?”

Elsa took a deep breath.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m ready.” She let go of Anna’s hands and strode towards the doors. Anna followed, a silent shadow.

Outside, a crowd had already begun to gather, mostly palace staff but here and there a couple of higher ranking ministers as well. Anna locked eyes with an older man in the back, an admiral from what she could remember. Apparently there was something in her face that he could read, and he inhaled stiffly.

“I need a messenger bird to Romsdal immediately,” Elsa said to one of the servants that worked in the dovecote. “Tell their king that due to the forced annexation of Vestmar by Hans of Weideland—” the crowd gasped and murmured, and Anna gripped her hands tightly together until her knuckles turned white “–– the Kingdom of Arendelle is officially at war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [End Act Two](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zg1bWZAu_uY)


	20. Act Three: Part One

Anna watched, her hands tightly clasped in front of her, as the palace staff loaded the town’s weekly fruit preserves and flour rations onto the distribution cart. It’d become her latest job, helping hold down the fort so to speak, while Elsa busied herself somewhere out along the fjord, strategizing with generals and bolstering defenses.

Five months.

They’d only declared war five months ago.

What’d started out as a great northern war of liberation for the Kingdom of Vestmar had rapidly disintegrated into a struggle for their basic survival. Arendelle was the only one left now—the North’s one remaining bastion of strength. And they probably would’ve fallen with the rest of them—armies ripped apart during the Battle of the Haust Moon—if it hadn’t been for her sister’s powers.

They were at a stalemate now. The winter snow made it impossible to get an army over the mountains, and Arendelle held complete control over its fjord. A sleepless, snow army now patrolled the shores, and Elsa kept the water itself frozen, blocking Hans’ ships at the mouth of the sea. Whenever any sailors tried to advance by walking over the ice-covered surface, they quickly found it melting beneath their feet, only to refreeze above them once they’d fully plunged into its depths.

Anna shivered.

She didn’t like to think about death like that. Many of the soldiers had been—were _still_ —just following orders.

But then again, that was war.

The staff loaded up the last of the provisions and Anna signed off on it along with one of the town ministers.

They weren’t doing _all_ that bad though in the grand scheme of things. Since they weren’t seiged in at the town walls, food itself wasn’t a problem. Even in winter, Arendelle had more than enough skilled huntsmen to go out and trap meat and ice fish, so they weren’t starving. Not by a long shot.

Grains and fruit and vegetables on the other hand…

They were already low on supplies and would be running even lower until spring came. That was… if it even “came.” If the ground thawed enough for planting, that’d mean the mountain passages would’ve thawed too.

Not by much, granted.

Definitely not enough to get an army through.

If Arendelle’s natural defenses were a full on suit of armor, the mountain passes would be like tiny pinpricks. Microscopic. Harmless.

But still there.

As the now-loaded cart rumbled off towards the castle gates, a servant crossed the courtyard towards Anna.

“Just arrived, Your Highness,” he said, holding out a message tied with a black string. “Since Queen Elsa is out, I thought I should give it to you.”

Anna blinked at it.

Black string. Top urgency.

“R-right,” she said.

The servant bowed again as she took it and unscrolled it. Inside was written an abnormally short message:

_Stone stolen._

It took a moment for the words to click. Then the blood in Anna’s veins froze. Her heartbeat slowed to a sluggish thump.

The stone she and Hans had taken from the cave. The stone with the power to nullify magic.

To nullify her sister’s magic.

Arendelle’s defenses.

And even as the world was bust pitching itself one way, another even darker thought occurred.

“Where did this message come from?” Anna asked.

“Homing pigeon, Your Highness.”

“From which kingdom?”

“I’m… I’m not sure,” he replied with a small cough. “The pigeons are all ours, you see. We give them to the other kingdoms, they fly back home… Old Man Floki knows all the birds by sight, but he got really sick last Thursday. Still at home.” He paused. “The message doesn’t say?”

“No,” Anna said. “I can guess, based on the contents…” She frowned. “Or perhaps someone is hoping I’ll make that guess.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” she quickly said. “Thank you for bringing this to me.”

The servant bowed one last time and left.

“Princess Anna?” asked the minister who’d been supervising the supply load with her. “What is it?”

Anna took a sharp breath and then drew herself up as regally as possible. “Confidential information,” she said, tucking both scroll and string safely away into a buttoned pocket.

The minister raised his eyebrow. “Is it something that needs to be immediately taken care of?” he asked.

“Oh no, nothing that…” Anna paused and then cleared her throat. “Actually, yes. Yes, it does. Could you finish up the rest here without me?”

With official approval to excuse herself, Anna made her way back into the palace. She found an empty corridor and leaned against the wall. Her fingers dug the paper back out of her pocket, and she read the short message again.

And again.

Anna frowned. It’d been so long, she couldn’t tell whether it was Rapunzel’s handwriting or not. Or whether it was Eugene’s or not. Or her aunt’s. Or her uncle’s… Although she _did_ have a bunch of letters stashed in her room that she could compare it against.

Because that was the thing.

It made sense for the message to have come from Corona. It made sense for it to be a short, desperate warning from her family, sent in the hopes that a small, unmarked messenger bird would be able to slip through whatever barriers Hans had erected around the kingdom ever since he’d annexed it.

But then it _also_ made sense for the message to be from Hans himself.

Or at least one of his lackeys.

After all, his ships and armies had been stuck at the mouth of the fjord for months. It’d been even longer than that since Hans had taken over Corona, since the vault with the stone in it would’ve fallen into his hands. Assuming he’d had the power to steal it that entire time, why would it have only happened _now_?

Perhaps the real reason Anna hadn’t gotten any recent letters from her family was because they’d escaped. They could’ve escaped from Corona with the stone ages ago, and the letter currently in her hands was just a ruse. Hans could be hoping for Arendelle to panic, for Elsa to withdraw herself from the front lines.

Anna bit her lip.

Retreat or stay, whatever Arendelle chose to do was a risk. Not too mention that Elsa’s patience was running just as thin as Hans’ probably was these days. The last thing Arendelle needed was for its queen to be spurred into a reckless attack…

“Anna?”

She jumped, the message nearly tumbling from her hands. She scrambled for it—the paper crumpling beneath her fingers—and managed to stuff it back into her pocket.

“Oh,” Anna said blankly as she looked up. “Kristoff. You’re back. I mean, you’re back! Obviously it’s great to see you back! Sorry, long day…”

Kristoff sighed. “Don’t be sorry just because you don’t have a smile on your face twenty-four seven,” he said before brushing at his sleeves. They were crusted with ice and snow, a sign that he’d came straight to the palace from the town’s now weekly hunt. “God knows it’s been tough on all of us.” He paused. “What were you reading?”

“Nothing,” Anna said automatically. “Just some boring, logistical stuff.”

She fought to keep a wince from her face.

It wasn’t that she didn’t _trust_ Kristoff, but rather… until she checked it against her Coronan letters upstairs, the fewer that knew about the message, the better. If rumors started to spread—

“How was the catch this week?” Anna asked.

“Pretty good,” he said. “Should be more than plenty to last.”

Anna smiled. “Which means you’ll be in town for at least the next three days?”

“At least,” he grinned back.

“Great, because I just need to take care of this _really important_ thing right now,” Anna said, choosing to ignore the way his grin suddenly dropped into a frown. “I’ll make sure Gerda has some nice, hot soup cooking for dinner. We’ll all give you a proper welcome home. I promise.”

As she tried to sidle away, Kristoff snuck a hand around her waist and drew her back.

Anna’s eyes narrowed. “I’m being serious here,” she said.

“So am I,” Kristoff said. “I can’t let you go until I give you your birthday present.”

Anna stared at him.

“It’s not anywhere near my birthday.”

“Okay, yeah… so not a birthday present, but still something special,” he admitted. “We’ve all been pushing ourselves hard since, well, since the war started, and I figured you needed a treat almost more than anyone, so I went got you…”—he dug around in the satchel that was strapped across his chest—“…this!”

He pulled out a yellow apple.

A fresh, whole apple.

“Oh my God,” Anna breathed. “Where did you get that?”

“A good magician never reveals his secrets,” Kristoff said as Anna began to reach out for it. “Although in this instant, let’s just say I know a guy. The fjord’s frozen, but he might’ve had a few”—he cleared his throat—“secret overland connections.”

Anna’s fingers froze.

“You know we’re not supposed to be trading with any of the neighboring kingdoms,” she said with a frown. “If Elsa found out…”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t _have_ to find out,” Kristoff said. “Come on, Anna. It’s one apple. It’s not like the guy was smuggling military equipment or state secrets.”

“You don’t know that,” Anna said flatly.

“He’s a close friend. I trust him.”

Anna lifted an eyebrow. As warm as Kristoff was, he wasn’t quite the ‘close friend’ type. Not with humans at least.

“Alright,” Kristoff groaned. “He’s a friend of a friend… of a friend.” He ignored the moan exasperation and disgust from Anna. “Point is, I _do_ trust him. Okay?”

Anna continued to grumble to herself. _Tiny pinpricks_ , her mind reminded her. _It all started with tiny pinpricks._ If she was cool and objective, she’d put her foot down and—

It’d been way too long since she’d had fresh fruit.

Anna snatched the apple from Kristoff’s hands. “Just this once,” she quickly said.

“Just this once.”

Anna’s face tried to rearrange itself into a smile. She settled for giving him a peck on his stubbly check. “I do still have that thing I need to do though.”

“No problem. I can wait for you until whenever.”

After they’d said their temporary goodbyes, Anna quickly made her way to her room. She passed the apple back and forth between her hands for a moment before placing it on top of her desk. As much as she wanted to bite into it right then and there, some things tasted sweeter the longer they were savored.

Right now she had to take care of the letters.

Anna knelt in front of her desk and began pulling out drawers. They’d been organized… once, like everything in her life. Now they overflowed with random missives and personal correspondence and copied minutes from important meetings. Most of them weren’t relevant anymore—hadn’t been since the alliance had fallen apart—but Anna hadn’t been able to throw them out yet.

Everything had been so much busier back then, each day alight with a sort of… fire.

So much for the glory days of war.

Anna paused on an old, joint-sent letter from the Kingdoms of Nordheim and Fjordane—her fingers traced the curves of her name—then placed it aside and continued her search.

She finally found the small stack of Coronan letters in the back of the second to last drawer from the bottom. Most of the edges had been bent from multiple rereads. Anna opened one from Rapunzel—laying it flat on the floor, and then unrolled the black-tied message with shaking hands.

Penmanship comparison was hardly an area of experience for her, but Anna’s stomach dropped all the same.

They were a perfect match.

* * *

Elsa still hadn’t gotten back from the front by the time dinner was ready. Olaf was gone too; he spent most of his time these days in town, checking-in on various struggling families and keeping their spirits up.

Anna and Kristoff ate alone, the dining hall feeling even more cavernous than usual.

There was no reason to keep the message from Kristoff now, but Anna put off mentioning it all the same. She asked him more about his hunt, asked him about the next one, wondered aloud whether or not the kitchen had any possible treats to bring to Sven tomorrow.

All silly things, really.

Still, the longer she avoided the topic, the longer it didn’t seem to quite _exist_ yet.

After dinner, they retired to the palace library. Anna grabbed the novel that she’d been slowly reading over the past month, got herself settled onto the couch next to the fireplace, and then stared blankly at its pages.

It wasn’t right.

Elsa was off fighting—or at least creating hulking snowmen that could fight _for_ her—to keep Arendelle safe, and Anna was just sitting here. Reading.

Not that Anna would contribute much on the battlefield. Knowing her luck, she’d probably be an anti-contribution.

And the weekly supply coordination _was_ important. After all, they couldn’t keep fighting a war if they weren’t keeping down the home front…

…even if she was only just a co-signer on everything. A co-checker.

A co-chief officer of morale.

Anna’s fingers tightened around the cover of the book, and she had to fight herself from throwing it across the library.

Sometimes she felt like such a joke.

Midnight came and went. Anna was about to give up on her full five pages of progress and head off to bed when a servant entered with a small announcement: Elsa had officially returned.

Anna excused herself from Kristoff to find her. Not that there ended up being much of a search involved. She discovered Elsa hunched over the desk in her study.

Surprise, surprise.

Lingering in the doorway, Anna cleared her throat.

Elsa didn’t move.

Anna cleared her throat again, harder, and it fell apart into a cough halfway through.

“Oh,” Elsa said, glancing up. She brushed her bangs away from her face. “Anna. What is it?”

Anna took a deep breath.

Keeping it from Kristoff was one thing. Keeping it from Elsa… She just prayed that her sister wouldn’t end up doing anything rash.

“We…” Anna paused as she dug the message out of her pocket. “We received this today.” As she handed it over to Elsa, she added, “I checked the handwriting against one of Rapunzel’s old letters. It matched…”

Elsa’s mouth pressed into a tight line. Her fingers were white, but untrembling, as they clutched the small piece of paper.

“Elsa?” Anna cautiously asked.

“If- If this is really from Rapunzel,” Elsa finally said. “We need to form a backup plan for our defenses.”

Anna couldn’t do anything but nod.

“You probably don’t want to hear this, but I’m going to stay at the front," Elsa continued. She shook her head. “It’s just, it doesn’t make sense though that Hans would’ve waited this long to steal the stone. I know you said you checked the handwriting, but if Rapunzel was forced to write this… or if someone forged it, then changing our current defense formations could be playing right into their hands.”

“Actually, that’s… that’s pretty much what I thought too,” Anna said. She twisted her hands together. “Oh, and I haven’t told anyone about it yet. Including Kristoff.”

“Good. Keep it that way for now,” Elsa said as she rolled up the message and put it away in her desk. She looked up at Anna. “Is there anything else?”

Anna blinked, shocked that the matter had apparently been ‘taken care of’ so quickly. She hesitated, wanting to say something more, simultaneously ignoring and embracing the queasy feeling rolling around in her gut, but couldn’t think of anything else to say. She and Elsa were technically in agreement about the message and the potential risk involved no matter what they did. If Anna suddenly changed her position just to have something more to say, she’d be arguing with herself.

“Umm… nothing, I guess.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah, tomorrow…” Anna slunk back towards the hallway door. “Oh!” she said, gripping its frame. “There is one thing.”

Elsa lifted an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Just… make sure to get some sleep,” Anna said.

Elsa blinked at her younger sister and then sighed. “Of course, Anna,” she said. “Of course…”

* * *

Despite what she’d told Elsa, the clock read twenty past one by the time Anna managed to drag herself into bed. Even once she had the covers over herself, she continued shift and squirm.

Head over the pillow.

Head under the pillow.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the message and what it might mean. What if Weideland actually had the stone and started using it while she slept? What if she woke up to the castle being invaded? What if she ran downstairs to find Hans…

Hans…

The less she thought about Hans and what he and Elsa might do to each other the better.

Anna squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force herself into unconsciousness. She drifted in and out of sleep, ignoring the slight stiffness in her back that’d been creeping up ever since she’d been mostly stuck within the palace again. She tried to ignore the faint light that was piercing her eyelids.

She rolled over, trying to bury her head beneath the pillow, but it didn’t do anything to block out the strengthening glow.

Anna moaned in sleepless frustration. She slammed her pillow off to side and sat up to confront the offending light source…

…and blinked blearily in confusion.

Her bedroom was blanketed in a soft, golden glow. Anna’s mind spun, thinking for a split-second that she’d been transported back to the mysterious cave in the southern mountains, and then she realized the light wasn’t coming from any sort of stone but from the apple Kristoff had given her. It was still resting on top of her desk where she’d left it, but its skin had morphed from its uniform yellow into a deep, shimmering gold.

Anna blinked several times, but it didn’t morph back.

The slight chill in the air had also seeped into the floor. Anna ignored the protest in her feet as she swung both of them over the side of her bed and made her way over. She blinked again, and the apple and desk fused, leaving an ancient, gnarled tree twice her height standing in its place. A couple dozen golden apples hung from its branches.

The glow strengthened into a shine, casting everything in her into the same color.

Anna stood at the edge of the trunk and stared at the nearest apple. Its skin glittered like a… like half-gold, half-gemstone _thing,_ spotted with tiny flecks of pure light.

She reached out a hand, and her fingertips brushed—

Anna sat up.

The room was dark, a mess of grey and black shapes with fuzzy outlines. Her hands were clutching the edges of her blanket. As she took a moment to let her eyes adjust, she spotted the apple still sitting on her desk.

Plain. Dull. Ordinary.

Anna frowned, then took a moment to rub her eyes before she pushed herself out of bed with protesting limbs. She stumbled over to her desk with a stifled yawn, paused, and then picked up the apple.

It was cool in her hands.

Just a normal apple.

The strange vision had been a dream. Just a weird dream, brought on by stress. Stress about yesterday’s message, stress about the war the general…

Even as she tried to rationalize it away, something low and twisting in her stomach screamed not to.

She felt the urge to take a bite, prove to herself that it was normal apple after all, but then she’d have to eat the whole thing right then and there or risk wasting it. Besides, if it _was_ a weird apple from only God knew where—Anna still didn’t trust Kristoff’s supposed friend of a friend trader—then biting into it wasn’t probably the best idea.

A quick glance at the clock told her it was only half past five. Anna wanted to go back to bed, not do things that would keep her out of it. If she waited until morning she could ask Kristoff more about the man he’d gotten it from and decide what to do from there.

As for now…

Anna opened the top drawer of her desk, tossed the apple in, slammed the drawer shut, and then tottered back off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to give a big shout out and thanks to the people who've stayed with me this far. You guys are the best! <3


	21. Act Three: Part Two

“I don’t know what else you want me to say,” Kristoff told Anna at breakfast the next morning. “Dag’s a good guy. And he sells normal apples. Not poisoned ones to princesses living in dwarf huts. Not magic ones that’d put you right up there with the rest of the gods in Asgard. Just normal, field-grown apples.”

Anna huffed. “I _know_ what I saw, and I’m telling you: there was something definitely weird about—”

“Weird about what?”

Elsa wandered bleary-eyed into the dining room.

Kristoff coughed. “Nothing!” he quickly said. As much as he’d been downplaying the smuggling aspect of his gift to Anna, he was obviously scared of what’d happen if Elsa found out. “Anna just had a bad dream last dream last night.”

“It was _more_ than just a bad dream,” Anna said. “It was…” She hesitated, seeing the pleading look in Kristoff’s eyes. He wanted her to keep the apple a secret. But without it, her worries about the dream would seem even sillier than they already were.

Anna sighed. “It just felt really ominous, that’s all.”

Elsa gave her a soft smile. “We’re at war, Anna,” she said, taking a seat and pulling a small plate of fish towards her. “I’d be more concerned if you didn’t have ominous dreams every so often.”

Anna fidgeted. “It wasn’t a _normal_ dream,” she muttered.

Elsa shook her head and began eating.

Anna frowned, and then felt a touch on her hand. Kristoff had grabbed it. He motioned towards Anna’s barely touched plate, a clear request to drop the subject and get on with the rest of her day.

And she _wanted_ to do that.

But she couldn’t.

“I woke up in the middle of the night and an apple tree was growing in the place where my desk is,” Anna said bluntly, ignoring Kristoff’s sharp take of breath.

Elsa looked up.

“The apples were golden,” Anna continued.

“Did… did the apples do anything?” Elsa asked.

“Well, not exactly?” Anna admitted. “I woke up as soon as I touched one. That is, I woke up a second time. The real time.”

Elsa placed her fork down on the place and folded her hands in front of her. “Can you think of anything that might’ve _caused_ this dream?”

Kristoff’s grip tightened almost painfully around her hand. She’d be selling him out, throwing his gift straight back into his face just because of a silly dream… one that she didn’t even fully understand yet…

Anna shrugged.

That didn’t count as lying, right?

Elsa sighed and went back to eating. “I don’t know what to tell you, Anna,” she said after several bites.

Anna didn’t respond.

Despite Elsa’s late arrival to the table, she finished her food faster than Anna and Kristoff combined. She stood and started to leave.

Anna bit her lip.

“Are you going back to the front?” she asked before Elsa had reached the door.

It’d already been nerve-wracking, watching her leave day after day, not knowing whether Elsa’s magic would be enough to protect her for that day, but now that they had the stone to possibly deal with on top of everything else…

Elsa was silent for a moment.

“I have to,” she finally said.

As Elsa left, the door behind her closed with a hollow thud.

“She’ll be fine,” Kristoff said with unflinching, naive optimism.

Anna tried to say something back, but her throat seemed to be shoving all her words back into her stomach where they wrestled with each other for dominance. She settled for nodding instead.

* * *

Anna leaned on the windowsill and stared out at the frozen wasteland that was her home. The sun clung as close at it could to the middle of sky at this time of year… so, in other words, not very close to the middle of the sky at all.

Still, midday.

Elsa would’ve arrived at the front lines by now. Whatever happened today would already be happening—completely out of Anna’s control.

Beneath her hands rested the yellow apple. Anna felt uneasy when she held it, but beneath that scratched an even stronger itch. A feeling that if she faced her uneasiness long enough then some… _thing_ would be waiting for her when she finally broke through to the other side. Another vision perhaps.

Or maybe even a goshdarn, clear cut _answer_ for once.

Imagine that.

Anna still hadn’t gathered the courage to bite into it. Luckily for her and her indecision, apples took a very long time to rot. With the current temperature, Anna had… what? A month to decide what to do with it? Ten thousand things could happen in a month.

They might be free a month from now, having broken through Weideland’s siege.

They might be conquered.

Anna shuddered. She left the window, collapsed on a nearby couch, and passed the apple back and forth between her hands. It was hard to see how they could win at this point when all their other, much stronger allies had already fallen…

The room’s door creaked open.

“Hey, Anna!” Olaf’s cheerful voice piped a moment later. He waddled up to her couch, eyes locking onto her apple before she had a chance to hide it. “Whatcha got there?”

“Oh…” she said, stomach dropping as she try to calculate how quickly the information was going spread from him to Elsa. So much for protecting Kristoff. Maybe if she ate it now, she could claim that it’d never existed. “Just a present.”

“Cool,” Olaf said. He continued to stare at it. “Aren’t you going to eat it?”

Anna sighed in exhaustion. “I have no idea,” she said.

Olaf slowly frowned and then suddenly gasped, his eyes snapping wide. “Is it poisoned?” he asked. “It’s poisoned, isn’t it? Who gave you that apple? How many old women do you know? Wait, no. How many step-mothers do you know?” He gasped again. “Anna, do you have a secret step-mother?”

Anna fought the urge to laugh and groan at the same time.

“It’s not poisoned, Olaf,” she managed to say. “Or at least, I don’t _think_ it is.”

“Oh, okay…” Olaf said, sounding more disappointed than relieved by the news. “Who gave it to you then?”

Anna whispered a quick mental apology. She could lie to the small, trusting snowman, but it’d only get things more jumbled up than they already were.

“It’s— it was a present from Kristoff.”

“Kristoff? Ooh, that’s a lovely present then,” he said as he reached for the apple with his stick fingers. Anna held it back, and Olaf stopped. “Why haven’t you eaten it yet?”

Anna sighed. “I…” She winced, feeling even sillier about the explanation than she had this morning. “I had a had weird dream about it last night.”

Olaf nodded in silence. He took a seat on the far end of the couch and motioned for Anna to lie back, placing her head by his snowy side. She clutched the apple against her stomach and stared up at the ceiling as she described the dream in depth.

“And then I woke up,” she finished. “And the tree was gone and my desk was just a desk again. But… I’m not really worried about the dream itself. It’s more the apples that were in the dream… and this apple.” Anna traced her fingers across its surface. “It’s like, I look at this apple and I know there’s something _wrong_ about it. But the wrongness isn’t about this apple either? There’s… a shadow apple or something that’s behind this apple and it’s the _shadow apple_ that I should be able to see, but I’m… not.”

The words that were tumbling out of her mouth didn’t make sense to even her anymore.

Anna was officially turning crazy. This was how craziness started.

She groaned. “Just forget everything I just said.”

But unlike the others, Olaf simply stared up at the ceiling in contemplative silence.

“Have you ever felt this way before?” he finally asked.

“Of course not,” Anna automatically replied. “Or… no, at least not, exactly? But maybe? I guess?” Her stomach twisted. “But this isn’t like that,” she said firmly.

“What was the other time?” Olaf asked, apparently not liking that answer.

Anna frowned. “It was with me and Elsa. Some of my earliest memories of us together: sledding… making snowmen…” Her fingers pressed against the skin of the apple, nails longing to dig in. “Sometimes the details didn’t seem to line up. Whatever magic the trolls used back then, it wasn’t perfect. And whenever I thought about those cracks too much—like the time we made a giant snow fortress with books in the walls even though we weren’t ever allowed to bring books out of the palace—the whole memory would kind of… slip away.”

Her frown deepened, and she sat up, turning to face Olaf.

“But like I said,” Anna told him. “This isn’t anything like that.”

Olaf stared at her with wide, unblinking eyes. “Why not?”

Anna stared back.

She didn’t have an answer.

* * *

Anna found Kristoff in the stables giving a brush down to Sven. The reindeer was happy to see her, albeit a bit less happy when she dragged Kristoff out of the stall, putting a sharp end to the bristled massage.

“I don’t think there’s anything weird with the apple you gave me,” she told him.

“Awesome,” Kristoff said. “Did you–”

“I think it’s been a trigger for something _else_ that’s weird,” she continued. “Something important I’ve forgotten. Somehow the apple’s been trying to remind me about it.”

Kristoff stared at her.

“What?” he said.

Anna sighed. “I’m not saying the apple _itself_ is trying to tell me something,” she said. “It’s… I don’t know. Maybe something about apples in general? Or apple trees? Haven’t you ever seen something and it brings up a random, old memory you didn’t even know you had anymore?”

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Kristoff said as he crossed his arms. “You’re saying you’ve forgotten something again? Something really important? Like sister-having-magic-that-will-endanger-the-kingdom important?” Sven nudged against his arm and Kristoff pushed the reindeer away. “Later buddy.”

“You know, it’s not like I ever _chose_ to forget that particular…” Anna muttered. “But yes. Something like that.”

Kristoff frowned. “But the last time that happened…” His eyes swept across Anna from head to toes to head. “She hasn’t hit you in the head again, has she?”

“No! I mean, even if she had and I’d forgotten, there’s no reason that she’d keep it from me,” Anna said. “Not anymore.”

“Alright,” Kristoff said. “Then we can cross that possible cause off the list. What other magical stuff have you been involved with?”

Anna’s lips twisted. Her thoughts were already barreling towards one incident in particular, and her throat dried with every single detail that got thrown back.

“There’s Rapunzel,” she said instead, delaying the obvious. “But she says she hasn’t had a drop of magic in her since she healed Eugene that one time. And that happened before we ever met.”

“Okay, what else?”

Anna interlaced her fingers and then reached up, scratching Sven behind the ears.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I mean, there was that blizzard… and the stone from the cave.”

Kristoff scowled. “Hans.”

Anna swallowed, not daring to speak. She was starting to regret not telling him about Rapunzel’s message. If there _was_ something wrong with her because of that journey three years ago, Kristoff would lump it straight into the whole mess that was happening now. She’d have to drag him back from galloping to the front lines before he got both of them killed.

“I _did_ touch the stone with my bare hands,” Anna continued, trying to drag the focus off Hans. “Maybe some ancient knowledge or memory got passed into my brain without me knowing it? I mean, gold stone… gold tree…”

“Maybe,” Kristoff muttered.

Anna frowned. “I need to visit your family.”

“When?”

“Umm… today? Possibly?”

He stared at her.

“It’s February,” he said.

“I know.”

“The sun’s already starting to set. We’d be making the trip in the dark.”

“I know.”

“Anna,” he said, tone pleading. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s kind of a war going on. We’re talking about a seriously dangerous journey.”

“The war is _exactly_ why we need to go today,” Anna said. She glanced around the stables. They were fairly empty, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She took a step closer to Kristoff and lowered her voice to a whisper. “If this memory is as important as I think it is, it can’t wait until tomorrow.”

Kristoff groaned, dragging his hand across his forehead. “Give me one reason why it can’t,” he said. “Give me one reason why we can’t just spent tonight safely researching in the library. Your sister’s defenses are kind of ice solid. Literality.”

Anna closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. In and out.

So much for _both_ of her secret promises.

“Elsa’s defenses might not be as solid as we think they are,” she said, eyes still closed.

She listened for Kristoff’s immediate response.

It didn’t come.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he finally asked.

Anna cracked one eye open, then the other. Kristoff’s face was calm but stiff as his eyes bored into hers.

“We— We got a message from… well, we _think_ it’s from Rapunzel but we’re still not certain,” Anna forced herself to say. She bit her lip. “The stone’s been taken. Weideland might have it on one of their ships.”

Kristoff sucked in a sharp breath. “You mean _Hans_ might have it on one of his ships,” he said. “And we _are_ talking about the same stone? The one that stopped that blizzard? The one you said blocks all magic from existing? The one you said might be blocking your memories?”

Anna nodded, trying to ignoring the ache of her heart clenching in on itself.

“And Elsa knows too?”

Anna nodded again.

“Who else?”

“I don’t know. Just us? She told me to keep it a secret since we don’t know whether or not the message is a trap or not.”

Kristoff closed his eyes. “How long have you been keeping this from me?”

“Just one day, I promise. So many things happened yesterday that—”

“Wait, yesterday?” Kristoff asked, opening his eyes. “You mean that ‘boring business letter’?”

Anna flinched. “…yes?”

Kristoff sighed and the slump in his shoulders made her cringe with guilt more than any enraged outburst could have.

“You do know you can trust me,” he finally said. “Right?”

“I know,” Anna said. “And normally I _would’ve_ told you, but the news is still so new and Elsa—”

“It’s alright. I understand,” he said. “But speaking of Elsa, you’re going to need her permission before you charge into this wild goose chase.”

“What?” she said. “She’s not even back from the front yet. It could be hours.”

Kristoff lifted his hands into a shrug. “Hey look. You can do whatever you want, but I’m not going to be the one answering when she comes after us demanding an explanation for everything.”

Anna groaned. As frustrating as it was, he was right. She paused, searching Kristoff’s face. “If I tell her everything, I’m going to have to tell her about the apple.”

Kristoff squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t remind me about that.”

A corner of Anna’s lips tugged upwards. “If it makes you feel any better, I _kind of_ already told Olaf, so he was bound to tell her eventually.”

“You did wha— No, you know what? I don’t even need to know.” Kristoff turned towards Sven—who immediately started sniffing his jacket in the hopes of a few leftover, hidden treats—and sighed. “And here I was, really looking forward to a couple days of _not_ riding…”

Anna blinked, and then beamed at him, clasping her hands together. “You mean you’ll take me?”

“Why not?” Kristoff said, admitting defeat. He patted Sven on the neck. “We’ll be ready whenever you are.”

* * *

Anna was putting the finishing touches on her ‘Letter of Explanation’ when a servant entered her room, informing her that the queen had returned early that day. She struggled for a moment—letter or face to face? letter or face to face?—before she pushed herself out of her desk chair and made her way to her sister’s study.

Elsa was curled up in a side chair this time, nursing a cup of hot tea.

“Anna,” she said with a smile as her sister entered. “I knew you’d be coming by.”

Anna paused. “You did?”

“Of course. You always do.”

“Oh,” Anna said, suddenly remembering all the nights she’d pretty much dropped everything she’d been doing regardless of the task whenever she’d heard Elsa had returned. “Right.”

“Today wasn’t too bad. If Hans has the stone with him, he hasn’t been showing any signs of using it,” Elsa continued. “So we’ll just have to continue to be careful.”

Anna took a deep breath. “About that…”

Elsa’s smile faltered, and then faded entirely as Anna re-explained her dream and then the apple that had triggered it and what she thought it might mean about her memories and the trip she was planning to take that night to the troll’s valley.

When she was finally finished, Elsa was deathly silent.

“Elsa?” Anna prompted, her voice sounding small in the stillness.

Her sister stood. She placed her tea cup on an end table—frost spread from beneath its base—and began to pace the room.]

“You think this happened sometime during your journey in the southern blizzard?”

Anna nodded.

“Then… can you remember if there was ever any undocumented time you had back then? Anything whatsoever?”

“Huh?”

“Parts you can’t remember?”

Anna lifted an eyebrow. “You’re asking me if I can remember stuff that I can’t remember?”

Elsa stopped pacing and groaned softly. “No, I—” she took a deep breath. “Was there any time Hans could’ve done something without your knowledge? Any time you were sleeping or unconscious or… anything?”

Anna frowned in thought.

She had slept every single night. Sure, they’d been _possible_ opportunities of attack, but Anna didn’t know how to satisfactorily explain to Elsa that he hadn’t done anything then. Not to mention that most of them had been spent far away from the stone and anything else remotely magical.

“No,” Anna said before the silence grew too long.

There was nothing at all that—

And then she remembered the cave on the mountain side—the secret home of the stone, guarded by giant stone ravens. There’d been that second earthquake.

She’d been knocked unconscious.

But Hans had stayed by her side the entire time.

Or, at least, that was what he’d told her…

“Anna…” Elsa said with an edge of warning to her voice, as if sensing her hesitation.

Anna continued to frown. Even if Hans _had_ done something, the stone had been untouched when they’d gotten there. It’d been fine.

Everything had been fine.

“No,” Anna repeated. “There was nothing.”

Elsa didn’t seem reassured.

“What about when you went to sleep?” she asked.

“Well, obviously I was out of it when I was sleeping,” Anna said with a small hand wave. “But that’s completely unrelated.”

Elsa stared at her. “Anna. That’s the very definition of related.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t have the stone on the way there.”

“And on the way back?”

“The guards were with us for most of it,” she said, silently counting the total days she’d been alone with Hans on her fingers. “The one day they weren’t, I used the stone as a pillow. There’s no way he could have gotten to it without waking me up.”

Elsa closed her eyes. “There are thousands of ways he could’ve gotten past you,” she said flatly.

Anna’s face twisted into something halfway between a scowl and a pout.

Elsa sighed.

“You should know that I don’t like one bit of this,” she said, trailing a hand on her desk and overlaying the grain of it with frost. “And I hate the thought of you riding out to the valley with only God knows what out there, but…” She looked up at her sister and locked eyes. “I’m with you.”

“Wait,” Anna said. “You are?”

“If you’ve forgotten something important about that stone,” Elsa continued. “Now’s the time we need you to remember it. As soon as possible. Do you want a company of guards?”

Anna shook her head, still not entirely grasping the fact that Elsa was actually _supporting_ one of her plans for once. “Arendelle needs them more than I do,” she said.

Elsa frowned. “Don’t forget Arendelle needs you as well.”

Anna’s cheeks flushed as she snorted in dismissal. “Yeah, right,” she said with a dismissive hand wave. “I can’t fight. I can’t make magical snowmen warriors…”

“That stuff’s not important,” Elsa said firmly.

Anna bit back a sarcastic, self-deprecating retort. It’d only cause her and Elsa to start arguing again.

“Just…” Elsa took a deep breath as she placed a hand on Anna’s shoulder. “Be careful? Alright?”

Anna smiled. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she wrapped her sister in a tight hug to hide them. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I will.”

* * *

Despite Olaf’s burning desire to tag along as soon as he overheard the plan, Anna and Kristoff left him at the palace with Elsa. They shared Sven, Anna holding onto Kristoff’s sides as they galloped past the town’s gates and into the first fringes of mountain forest, gaining elevation with each second.

When they’d gained enough height, Anna looked back.

Beneath both them and a waning moon lay Arendelle, clinging desperately to the side of the fjord. Only a few buildings and rooms of the castle were lit. Another snow cloud was brewing. It blocked out large swatches of stars as it started to dump more powder onto the already smothered landscape.

Anna faced forward and buried her nose into the furs of Kristoff’s coat, hoping that the hidden memories buried in her head would be enough to turn the tide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My original planning notes for this chapter actually had a part where I wrote out "figure out what Olaf's doing in all of this," and then he suddenly wandered into Anna's realization scene and it became my favorite scene.
> 
> (Also, this week's chapter has been brought to you in part by Kingdom Hearts II's soundtrack. It's inspirationally awesome.)


	22. Act Three: Part Three

Elsa kept her face blank as she studied the map that’d been laid out across her desk. It’d only been an hour since Anna and Kristoff had left for the valley of the trolls, but she couldn’t let that affect her existing commitments. Beside her stood General Berg, Arendelle’s chief of defense and one of the select few who knew about yesterday’s message.

“Now,” the stout, greying man said. “Assuming the worst happens and the entire southern battalion melts, I can get a smaller platoon of my men stationed here.” He pointed at a jagged peninsula about halfway between Arendelle and the sea. “The western banks will be unprotected, but this should create a strong, naval choke point to cover the rest of our lands to the east.”

Elsa frowned.

If General Berg was pointing out this particular spot to her, she had no doubt Hans’ advisors would be doing the same for him. Given the peninsula’s seeming strategic importance, he’d find a way to bypass any men stationed there entirely.

“And if he doesn’t use ships?” Elsa asked.

The general coughed. “Well, most of the land there is too steep to be traversable, so he’d have to use one of these four mountain paths to reach the heart of the kingdom,” he said, moving his finger across to four separate, annoyingly-spaced apart markings. “But logically—”

“Forget about logic when you’re dealing with this man,” Elsa told him. “What would it take to have lookouts stationed on each of these paths?”

“If that message’s contents are true and we lose your majesty’s personal forces, we’d be spread thin as it is,” Berg said, shaking his head. “Also we’d also have to account for some troop rotation given the current state of the weather, but all things considered—”

There was a knock at the door.

Elsa and the general looked up. The interruption wasn’t exactly surprising; there seemed to be one every half hour of her life these days. Elsa swept her eyes over her map, checking that any confidential information hadn’t penned down, before calling the person—a jittery, young soldier—in.

“Yes?” she asked, lacing her fingers together.

“We’ve— We’ve captured one of the enemy, your majesty.”

Elsa lifted an eyebrow. “Captured?” All of Arendelle’s men were supposed to be on strict “do not engage” orders when she wasn’t at the front to magically assist.

“Well…” the soldier said, wringing his hands as he directed his speech at the floor. “He surrendered actually. Came up onto land with a white flag—which, in hindsight, is rather hard to see against the snow. Anyway, it was Sergeant Marshmallow who discovered him.”

Elsa blinked, then turned to Berg to see if he knew what to make of the situation. He nodded grimly.

“And is this surrender captive saying anything?” Berg asked the solider.

The soldier swallowed. “Actually, he said he wants to speak to Queen Elsa.” The solider’s eyes flicked briefly up to meet Elsa’s then snapped straight back to the floor. “That he _won’t_ speak to anyone but her.”

Elsa inhaled sharply.

Something wasn’t right. After months and months of gridlock, first that message, then Anna’s visions, now this…

“Where is the man?” she asked.

“Outside the town walls. Guarded and shackled.”

“And you searched the man? Disarmed him?”

The solider’s eyes widened. “Yes, your majesty! First thing we did. As is procedure.”

Elsa tightened her fingers against her knuckles.

She had no idea what the magical stone of Anna’s tales looked like in person. Obviously she had Anna’s descriptions of it—more of a boulder than a stone, and impossible to smuggle anywhere—but her sister also had a habit of exaggerating crucial details or, worse, omitting some entirely. The stone could be smaller than Elsa was imagining, not to mention the possibility of Hans chiseling a piece off. He could’ve chiseled hundreds of pieces off, slipping them into the pockets of various sailors, creating his own walking, breathing mine field…

“Your majesty,” Berg whispered. “Assuming this captive is properly searched, it could be advantageous to hear what he has to say.”

Elsa nodded. To the young solider, she said, “Make sure your men search him again. Remove not just weapons, but everything from his person. I don’t want there to be even a single _pebble_ on him before he passes through the palace gates.”

The solider looked hesitant about this order, not speaking or gesturing in anyway to show that he understand.

“Any problems?” she asked.

The soldier coughed, turning red. “Even his clothes?”

Elsa blinked.

Then she sighed.

“No, of course not— Check them, obviously, but the man can keep his clothes.”

As the soldier nodded and excused himself to carry out her command, Elsa leaned forward and buried her hands into her hair.

* * *

The door to the captive’s room was plain and unadorned, save for the two soldiers that stood guard outside it.

Elsa took a deep breath.

“And you’re sure you’ve thoroughly searched him?” she asked one of the men.

“Yes, your majesty.”

Elsa turned. In addition to General Berg, she’d brought along four bowmen to stand alongside the walls as she interrogated the captive soldier. If he _had_ managed to smuggle in a piece of the stone, there’d be several arrow shafts sticking out of his chest in a matter of seconds.

“Very well then,” Elsa said. She nodded to the soldiers and they opened the door.

Inside the room was a single table. The captured—voluntarily surrendered, Elsa reminded herself—Weideland soldier was sitting at the far end, his wrist and ankles shackled together but otherwise untouched. He looked completely unremarkable, neither hulking nor pathetic, neither cringing in fear nor smirking with dastardly plans.

Elsa remained standing as her bowmen took their positions.

“You wished to speak to me?” she asked.

The soldier nodded slowly, eyes darting between each gleaming point of steel. “Yes, thank you for agreeing to meet with me personally, your majesty. I can’t express how grateful I am for the gracious oppor—”

Elsa waved him silent. “You have something you wish to tell me personally?”

“Yes…” the soldier said, his face finally taking on a paler shade. “King Hans, like you, understands the cost that this war is having on both sides.”

Elsa inhaled sharply. “Does he now?” she drawled. Somehow she doubted Hans had a single inkling of the pain and suffering that he’d been causing, let alone an ‘understanding.’

“Of course,” the solider said, seemingly blind to her sarcasm. “Rather than have countless more lives lost, countless families torn apart, he seeks to meet with you and develop a truce of peace between our two great nations.”

 _Lies,_ Elsa’s mind screamed.

Beside her, Berg coughed. “Your majesty,” he whispered. “The floor.”

Elsa glanced down and started; a thin layer of ice covered half the floor. With a furtive wave, she willed back away into shining powder. If the captive soldier noticed, he chose not to show it.

_Conceal. Don’t feel._

Every so often, her father’s old, disastrously misleading advice had its usefulness.

“And what would this truce entail?” Elsa asked once she’d grappled her emotions back under control.

“Peace and independent sovereignty for Arendelle,” the solider said automatically. “Provided you do not declare war upon his kingdoms again.”

_Don’t let it show._

“Independent sovereignty,” she repeated, biting out the acrid syllables. “Right. Like the independence Corona and Vestmar used to have before they suddenly went crawling to him for aid?”

The soldier took in a stiff breath. “I don’t anything about any of that.”

Elsa stayed silent. She glanced between the bowmen. “Keep watching him,” she told them as she signaled for Berg to leave the room with her.

“A peace treaty,” Berg breathed as soon as the guards had closed the door firmly behind them. “Do you really think the offer could be genuine?”

“Knowing Hans?” Elsa said. “No.” She frowned and began to pace to help her think. “Both of our positions are secure right now. Equal. He wouldn’t be suggesting this unless there was something in it that’d tip the balance in his favor.” She paused, glancing back at the door. “I should say ‘no.’”

“Perhaps…” the general muttered. “Or perhaps we can find a way to use this to our advantage.”

Elsa stared at him coldly. “With Hans there’s _never_ an advantage.”

“Tell me,” Berg said with a nod towards the room. “Is that man in there a threat?”

“That’s not… No, he isn’t,” Elsa admitted, recalling the way the four crossbow bolts had been pointing at his heart. Her mind replaced the face of the solider with a certain red-haired king’s. “But we’re hardly talking about the same man.”

“Men are men—flesh and blood, regardless of the differences between body or mind,” Berg said. “King Hans wants a peace meeting? Then we’ll accept it, but on our terms. He’ll surrender himself to our forces, allow himself to be searched _and_ restrained like this man here. We’ll strip him of all his supporting pieces before he takes a single step onto our side of the board.”

Elsa laced her fingers together. “General Berg, that all sounds good in theory, but…”

Berg raised an eyebrow. “But what, your majesty? Are you proposing that he’ll be able to rip apart his steel chains?”

“No,” she said. “At least not with brute strength.”

“Then you propose one of your own subjects will betray you.”

“Perhaps, or— I don’t know…” She took a deep breath and stared Berg straight in the eyes. “This man almost killed me,” she said, trying to impress into him the full depth of the threat. “When you sail down the fjord, it’s not the rock you see that worry you.”

“I understand that,” Berg said. “But as facts stand, we have no more remaining allies. If King Hans has this stone like you fear he does, this could be his final olive branch before he decides to crush everything we hold dear. And if word gets out to our people that you straight out _refused_ to even consider a peace treaty—”

“I know! I know the risks!” Elsa hissed, throwing her hands up as if they’d be able to physically block out his words. “It’s just…”

Berg sighed and his frame seemed to crumple with it. “I’m sorry, your majesty. In all honesty, this situation is far more difficult than anything your father ever had to face.” He took a deep breath and looked at the door, thoughtful. “Of course… there is _one_ other option.”

Elsa ventured a cautious look.

“If he agrees to our strict terms, we’ll have him cut off from his forces,” he whispered, drawing her close so that not even the guards stationed nearby could hear. “Alone. He’d be a commander putting his life solely into enemy hands.”

Elsa’s eyes widened, sensing the path he was about to travel.

“While there’s a definite possibility that his soldiers in the fjord will rally together to free him,” Berg continued, “the rest of his subjects will much more likely see it as an opportunity for freedom. He’s been ruling all of them, replacing old families, suppressing old grudges and grievances in his efforts to wipe away provincial borders… Two years is hardly enough time for a new king to secure basic loyalty, let alone popularity.”

Elsa glanced at her two guards, but their postures remained stiff and unaffected.

“You’re suggesting we break the laws of war and keep him prisoner?” she whispered back. While Elsa had no personal qualms with doing that—none whatsoever, the laws were there for a reason. Even if all the other kingdoms welcomed the outcomes of such a move, they’d never be able to look at Arendelle and fully trust her again.

And then there was…

“Only if things take a sour turn,” Berg said. “And this is assuming he even agrees to our terms. Which he probably won’t, at which point it becomes his problem again. Not ours.” He paused, frowning. “Something else is troubling you, your majesty?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just— Just my sister,” Elsa said. “Anna had…” Berg had always been an extremely pragmatic man, and she had to pick her words carefully if she wanted him to take it seriously. “Anna had a vision of sorts. She’s gone to the Valley of the Living Rock to figure out what it means.”

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“Nothing, like I said. But… I wonder if, perhaps, it might be better to wait until she gets back?”

“And when would that be?”

Elsa froze, realizing that she’d never thought to ask. Not that Anna would’ve known an answer to give her. “I’m not sure,” she admitted.

The general sighed. “Well, if either of us hopes to outthink King Hans, any possibility we have of doing that comes sooner rather than later. Of course, if you wish to wait for your sister’s return for an _indeterminate_ amount of time…”

He sniffed loudly, showing quite clearly what he thought of that plan.

Elsa frowned. If Anna’s missing memories involved Hans somehow, then she’d be an idiot to go ahead with such an important—and risky—meeting without them. But she had no idea how long it’d take for the trolls to help her sister. _If_ they were able to even help her at all…

“Alright,” Elsa said, trying to ignore her slivers of uncertainty as they laced together into a constricting web. “Let’s get our reply back to their king.”

* * *

Anna peeled off her gloves and began to rub some warmth back into her hands as she made her way deeper into the unnaturally lush valley. Above her, the stars blazed with blue fire across a clear sky, meaning Elsa had either gotten her powers back under control… or she hadn’t and this was just the magic of the valley doing its weird magical valley _thing_ again.

“Hey guys!” Kristoff shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “I’m back home!”

Home.

Despite all the time Kristoff spent in the palace, this would always be his true home, a bed of moss beating out linens and goose feathers each and every time. Anna wished she could love the valley like he obviously did.Oh, she liked it of course—it was pretty and Kristoff’s family was always welcoming on the verge of overdoing it, but every time Anna accompanied him she couldn’t help but be reminded of the first time she’d visited—the way her heart had been icing over with each step, growing heavier in her chest, pressing down against her lungs, making it harder to walk, harder to breathe…

Anna shivered.

She really hoped a similar thing wasn’t secretly happening to her again.

A cluster of nearby boulders started to tremble, then rolled forward and somersaulted with a pop into humanoid forms, among them Kristoff’s adoptive mother Bulda.

“Kristoff!” the youngest shouted, tackling him around his waist.

“You’re back early!”

“Oh no, is it the war?” Bulda asked.

“Anna’s here too! Hi, Anna!”

“I’m fine,” Kristoff quickly assured them as Sven bent down to lick the tops of their heads. More trolls started to approach from distant corners of the valley. “The war is… well, fine’s probably not the _best_ word, but it’s hanging in there. Actually, we’ve come because of something completely different. Is Grand Pabbie around?”

The trolls stared at him in silence before breaking out amongst themselves in hushed whispers. Asking to speak to the troll king wasn’t an ominous request on its own—Pabbie was family right along with the rest of them, but to skip the usual pleasantries and ask _directly_ for a meeting…

“What is it?” a deep voice rumbled.

Starting from the back, the growing crowd of trolls parted to let Grand Pabbie lumber down the valley steps towards Anna and Kristoff.

“It’s…” Kristoff’s face was torn between a wince and a smile as he looked at Anna.

She cleared her throat.

“It’s me,” Anna said. “Well, it’s my head.” She glanced up in thought. “Again.”

Pabbie squinted at her, apparently examining some invisible thing, as the other trolls watched in tense silence. Then he frowned. “Come closer, child.”

She did and then got down her knees for extra measure. Anna wasn’t sure if the old troll could actually, physically _see_ anything by staring at her hair this close or if it was more of a magical sense thing, but anything that could help—no matter how small—she would do.

Pabbie made several deep ‘hmm’ sounds in the back of his throat before grabbing her head with both of his stone hands. Anna let out a yelp of surprise as she was yanked forward.

“Watch it!” Kristoff said. “She _is_ a princess, you know.”

“Ssh!” Bulda hissed. “He knows what he’s doing.”

Pabbie slowly turned her head left, held it there, and then turned it to the right. “Strange,” he muttered, not letting go. “Very strange…”

Anna’s stomach clenched. “What is?” she asked, not entirely sure that she wanted to know the answer.

Finally, his rough fingers released her. Anna stood and reached up, smoothing the top braids of her hair in an attempt to keep calm as the old troll shook his head.

“The last time I saw magic quite like this…” he said. “It’s been more than eleven hundred years.”

“Wait,” Kristoff said. “So it is magic?”

“Eleven hundred years?” Anna asked, face blanching.

Pabbie stared at her with a new stoop to his stone-like figure. “When did this happen?”

Kristoff and Anna looked at each other, and Anna shrugged.

“That’s what we were kind of hoping you could tell us,” Kristoff said.

Pabbie shook his head. “An enchantment this powerful… it is impossible to tell from a glance,” he said. “The only way is to break it entirely and hope that the shadowed memories contained within will grant us the answers we seek.”

“Waaaait wait wait wait wait wait,” Anna said, a headache quickly approaching. “Pause everything for just a moment. Eleven hundred years? What’s so special about this magic inside of me that you haven’t seen a lick of it for the last eleven hundred years? That’s…” She struggled for words. “That’s more than a thousand!”

Pabbie opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and then let out deep breath. “There are many names by which it used to be called. But to put it plainly”—he looked around at the surrounding trolls before returning his eyes to Anna’s—“it’s the magic of the gods.”

The valley echoed with gasps and murmurs.

Anna stared at him.

As Pabbie turned to quell the new wave of questions from the other members of his family, Anna felt her head disconnecting. She was there, yes, and she was still hearing words, but none of them seemed to have any meaning. Sounds she definitely recognized were passing in through her ears and registering in her brain, but someone seemed to have forgotten to invite the language department.

Then she blinked and suddenly she was in a round cavern, body numb with cold and her muscles aching. A golden tree stood resplendent before her. A pale hand traced its fingers against the skin of an equally golden apple.

_…the golden apples of Idunn…_

Anna was back in the valley, a slight pressure gripping her arm. She realized vaguely that someone was touching her, holding her. She looked up to see Kristoff staring back in concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice tight.

“It’s noth—” Anna started automatically before catching herself. She was here because of her visions. “I saw the tree again.”

“Anything else?”

Anna bit her lip, conscious of the many trolls watching her. “I don’t know. A hand? But it’s all…”

She tried to recapture the memory, to follow the hand down its wrist to its inevitable owner—

Pain lanced from her right temple and into the base of her skull. She hissed, knees buckling and Kristoff scrambled to steady her again.

“Forget I said anything,” he said, lowering her to the soft moss. “Just wait until Pabbie comes back.”

Anna nodded, trying to push away the disconcerting realization that she hadn’t even noticed the old troll leaving. She sat on the ground, fingers burying themselves into the cool dirt as she took slow breaths in and out. She had to let her head clear and not think about what she’d just seen.

But how the hell was she supposed to do _that_ when Grand Pabbie had just straight out implied that she’d had some forgotten run-in with a _god_?! A god that’d tinkered with her head like she’d been some kind of pathetic Pinocchio.

Magic was one thing, but gods weren’t supposed to exist. At least… not like this.

And then, worse than that, churning in her gut, was the conviction that she _had_ seen that tree somewhere in real life before. She’d seen that rounded cavern…

Anna winced, her head stabbing with pain again.

“I told you to forget it,” Kristoff said.

“Well, _excuse_ me,” Anna muttered. “I’d like to see _you_ here on the ground thinking about trying not to think something!” She rubbed the side of her head, cursing everything.

Another elderly troll pushed her way through the crowd. “He’s ready,” she told them.

“Ready with what?” Kristoff asked.

“The preparations for the ritual.”

“What rit—?”

“Kristoff,” Anna said. “It’s fine. We’ll just go with it.”

In the end, any strange thing that Pabbie was about to do boiled down to magic that neither of them fully understood. Both of them trusted the old troll with their lives and that’s all that mattered.

“I’ll take care of Sven,” Bulda said as Kristoff helped Anna to her feet.

They followed the elderly troll up the valley steps and to a small, flat-topped hill. Grand Pabbie stood in its center, directing several smaller trolls as they made minute adjustments to a complex ring of crystals and rune stones laid out around him.

“Lay her down on her back,” Pabbie told Kristoff, pointing to a spot near his feet.

Kristoff’s hands shifted from supporting her to scooping low underneath her legs. Anna waved him away. Her head might’ve been getting increasingly screwy, but she still at least had the power to sit down by herself.

“This hill is the spiritual center of this valley,” Pabbie continued as Anna fidgeted to get comfortable; the moss was soft, but thin. “The natural life force of all its inhabitants flows through this spot, channeling the strength of all things mortal. Humans and trolls alike often discount that power in their quest for immortality. For you see, through our lives—but, more importantly, our deaths—we connect ourselves to everything that has ever been as well as those who have not yet taken their first breaths. Here is where we’ll attempt to remove the dark spot that is resting over a corner of your mind.”

Anna leaned up on her elbows. “You mean I can’t just bank on another Act of True Love this time?” she said, trying to crack a smile.

The grim look that Pabbie returned instantly sobered her.

“The power of love is not a thing to ever be underestimated in this world,” he said ponderously. “However… even love has its limitations when it comes to the old magics. Now. Are you ready to begin?”

Anna’s eyes widened; she hadn’t expected to be jumping straight into it like this. She looked at Kristoff like he’d have the answer. He looked back, equally as wide-eyed, and shrugged.

“This— This ritual won’t do anything bad will it?” Anna asked as she laid back down. “Like, say it fails… It’s not like this dark spot will, I don’t know, go and gobble down other memories. Will it?”

“It should not,” Pabbie said.

“ _Should_ not?” Anna repeated.

“It is… I have never actually performed this ritual myself,” he admitted. “I have only seen others perform it in my youth.”

Anna swallowed. She turned her eyes from him and stared up at the stars. They glimmered back at her, cheery and distant.

“You don’t have to do this,” Kristoff said.

“Yes, I do,” Anna said, keeping her eyes on the stars. “This is important. I know it. And… if it’s starting to hurt me like this, if there’s something in this magic that’s actually trying to stop me from remembering, that doesn’t _want_ me remembering… then that’s all the more reason to figure it out.” She turned to Pabbie. “I’m ready.”

Pabbie nodded. “Then face forward and close your eyes,” he said. Soon after she did so, she felt his stone hands again on the sides of her temples. “Now. Breath in time with both the ground below and the sky above.”

Anna had no idea what the heck that meant, so she settled for breathing as evenly as possible. That seemed to do the trick as Pabbie started to chant some unintelligible thing in what sounded like. Every so often she thought she caught a word she knew, a word that’d manage to drift its way through the centuries into their modern tongue, but it was impossible to gather any deeper meaning.

The sounds shifted together, Pabbie’s voice blurring with the soft rustles and echoes of the valley until it was all just one steady thrum, and Anna sank further down into the blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *takes a step back from the domino fortress she's just spent the last two years constructing*
> 
> *surveys all the pieces*
> 
> *rolls back her sleeves and prepares to topple over the first one*
> 
> \---
> 
> Also. Real talk, since this an absolutely terrible and cruel place to leave you guys on, I'm posting a special chapter one week from now. That's right. In honor of the great tradition of Disney villainy, I'm having a Halloween update. Mark your calendars.
> 
> Also also, speaking of special chapters and acts and parts... y'all might want to take a second look at the way I titled all of them. There are no errors and never have been.


	23. Act Three: Act One: Part Nine

Anna groaned.

Her head throbbed like someone had just bashed the back open with a sledgehammer. The pain cut through her vision, replacing normal shapes and colors with dizzy, flashing circles. She waited for them to clear, but as soon as they started to they were replaced by— no, that couldn’t be right. The entire world was coated with a wash of golden light.

Anna closed her eyes and went to press her hands against her forehead, but she couldn’t move her arms.

There was a rope tied around her wrists.

Another wrapped around her ankles.

Fear shot through her, a cold plunge that left her limbs trembling as her heart began to race. Anna struggled, movements growing frantic. She had no idea what the hell was going—

“It’s useless,” drawled a familiar voice in a far too familiar tone. “If there’s anything any decent sailor picks up in his first month at sea, it’s solid knot work.”

Anna blinked away the last lingering circles, but the golden light remained. She was lying on the stone floor of the cave but had been moved to a new, circular chamber. Hans was standing near the center, his back to her as he stared up at the branches of a small apple tree. Its apples were golden.

The entire tree was golden.

And glowing.

“What’s going on?” Anna demanded, her voice shaking as she managed to push herself up into an unbalanced half-sitting position. Her head spun. _This couldn’t be happening. Not again_. “What is that?”

“This?” Hans said with an almost reverent caress to his voice. “This is what we’ve came all this way for.”

“But—”

“Tell me, Anna. Have you ever heard of the golden apples of Idunn? Guarded by the ever vigilant ravens of Odin, legend goes that they gave the ancient gods of your land both their power and their immortality.”

Anna’s brain scraped against itself in its struggle to keep up.

“You said we were going after a stone…” she said dumbly. “A stone that had the power to nullify magic.”

Hans turned towards her, and the look in his eyes made her blood run ice cold. He smiled, his lips empty, hollow, and consuming. “I lied.”

She was an idiot. A blind, naive, trusting, _stupid_ —

“B-but why?”

“As if you’d have let me set a single _foot_ outside that castle if you’d known the truth.” He turned back around and reached out to one of the apples, letting his fingers trail over its glittering surface. “You have no idea the number of pieces I had to put into motion to reach this moment.”

“What pieces?” Anna asked, dreading the answer. She dreaded the way he was about to circle around her, the way he was about to toy with her, talk down to her like this wasn’t an adult in some life and death situation but instead some two year old that hadn’t understand anything about a silly theatre play that they’d just seen.

She dreaded the way he was about to leave her to die.

Hans scoffed.

“When you and your… _sister_ ”—Anna flinched at the way he sneered the word—“shipped me back to the Southern Isles, I got straight to work. You see, Anna, I’d been defeated. More than that, I’d been humiliated, and I take neither of those things lightly.”

Hans snapped one of the apples off its branches. It flickered slightly, its inner light threatening to wink out, and then sprung back into life, shimmering in his hand.

“I immediately began searching for a way defeat you,” he continued. “Well, rather your sister. Even when you blocked me at that final moment on the fjord, it was your sister’s ice magic that _really_ deflected my blow. After all, act of true love or not, steel _does_ tend to cut straight through flesh and blood. And then, of course, that’s not even counting the pathetic way you fell for this scheme even after claiming to know who I truly was. Tell me, how does it feel being utterly useless even after all this time?”

Anna inhaled sharply and dug her tooth into her lip to keep herself from rising to his obvious bait. She pressed down, harder and harder, until a metallic bitterness trickled across her tongue.

“But I digress. Let’s go back to the subject of your sister,” Hans said, superficially oblivious to her torment. “You see, I’ve personally always taken slight against the fact that some people are born with the world groveling in their palms while everyone else is left to fight for the scraps. Ability and ambition are sorely neglected, shunned even. So what I realized I needed, what I’d been lacking when I’d first arrived in Arendelle, was an equalizer. And considering your sister’s… _gifts_ , I realized it’d have to somehow be magical in nature.

“You wouldn’t believe the number of old tomes my family’s library had on magic, stuck in between the rotting biographies that no one’s touched in decades. Most of their contents were complete hogwash… but then I found the entry about these.” Hans tossed the apple back and forth from hand to hand. “The Golden Apples of Idunn—hidden only by a series of riddles, just waiting for a brilliant mind like mind to crack. Of course, there was only one problem. The tree that bore this magical fruit was located in a remote cave leagues and leagues away from the Southern Isles where I, alas, was still trapped under house arrest.”

Hans began to pace the short length of the cavern. Anna tried one more time to slip her wrists free of their knot, possibly gain enough balance to stand up, but she was stuck on the ground, unable to do much more than wriggle. Her throat felt paper dry at the nauseating familiarity. She fought down a sudden swell of bile as she realized that Hans had probably planned that as well. Everything in this cavern right now—the tree, his body, her position on the floor—had been physically staged, the twisted _magnum opus_ of some depraved mad artist.

“There was the enchantment at the cave’s entrance to deal with as well. Even if I managed to escape the Southern Isles and find a way here, it wouldn’t have been enough,” Hans said, shaking his head. “No, I had to figure out a way to drag someone else with me. Not only that, but someone with royal blood.” He snorted in irritation. “And due to the cross-bloodline requirement, it couldn’t even be one of my own brothers. No… So I thought to myself”—he tapped his finger playfully on his lower lip—“if I can’t leave the kingdom, then why not get the kingdom to leave with me?”

He turned towards Anna again with a smile.

“It’s amazing what spells you can find buried away in a royal library when you search hard enough,” he said, the light from the apple casting unnatural shadows across his face. “Spells of light and illusion, spells that physically strengthen the caster, spells that bring about eternal winter…”

Anna’s face drained of color.

All this time, his promises to help her stop the storm… The whole reason they’d come _all_ this way…

“No,” she breathed. “You didn’t.”

“You have to admit,” Hans said, absorbing her clear shock like words of praise. “It worked quite splendidly. Although… Stralshagen did end up being an irritating hiccup.” He scowled, features twisting from their usual angelic perfection. “Of all the possible kingdoms to flee to, I should’ve known my family would pick the one propped up by common _stewards_. But then—just when I’d started to think that I’d unintentionally sentenced myself to an excruciatingly slow, and rather embarrassing, form of suicide… that’s when you came along.” He swept his hands outwards, gesturing at the surrounding gold-lit cavern. “And everything started falling back into place.”

Anna stared at him, stared at the man who she’d actually been _stupid_ enough to begin putting her trust back into. Over the past week, they’d risked their lives for one another. She’d actually thought that’d meant something. They had struggled together, pressing forward, fighting the cold and the wolves and the snow and the mountains… all for the sake of surviving the storm.

The storm that he had created.

“People have died in this storm, Hans,” Anna said, her voice brittle and hollow. “Your own people have died, and more are dying every day.”

“True. And I shall remember them for their sacrifices.”

Her head shook imperceptibly in horror.

“You’re sick,” she whispered.

As the clip of the “k” pierced the air, Anna thought she saw Hans flinch slightly, but he recovered with a nonchalant shrug.

“I guess I am,” he said jovially, before lifting the apple to his mouth to take a bite.

And then he paused.

He frowned, lowering the apple like it’d unexpectedly done something to offend him, and then turned back to Anna. He approached where she was sitting and knelt down to her eye level. Her boots slipped on the stone floor as she scrambled to retreat, but her back was already against the cavern wall. There was nowhere left to go. Her ears were ringing—whether it was a lingering side effect from the blow to her head or the echo of her own heartbeat, she didn’t know.

Hans was too close like this. He was staring at her, staring straight _through_ her, green eyes sharp and distant despite being just a single foot away. There was a crease near the side of his lips, a permanent mark that marred his near-perfect mask, betraying his near constant displeasure. Was that new? A scar of defeat from her and Elsa? Or had it always been there and she’d just been too blind from puppy love and the soft glow of evening candlelight from her sister’s coronation to have ever noticed?

He outstretched his hand, offering up the apple.

Anna looked down at it, then back at him.

“What do you want?” she asked.

This was some kind of new trick. It had to be.

“World domination is going to be _such_ a boring thing if I have to do it alone,” Hans said. “Rule with me.”

Her eyes widened.

“W-what,” Anna said flatly.

“Consider it a payment of interest. After all, you did help me get all the way here… helped me break through the last enchantment. It’s only fair that I offer you _some_ form of compensation.”

“Fair,” she repeated. “Like you’ve ever cared about the concept of—”

He was baiting her again.

This sudden offer was just one last thing to confuse her, his last attempt at total revenge. It had to be. She could see the way his mind was turning: get poor bound and chained Anna to beg him for table scraps—for an apple of her own—and then, just as quickly as he had offered his own, personal form of twisted salvation, yank it away.

Her chest heaving through deep breaths of anger, Anna straighten her back and drew herself up as tall as possible, closing the distance between the two of them. “Hans,” she whispered, forcing him to lean further in hear her words.

Anna paused, taking the moment to study his pretty, perfect face. He was still holding the apple. Its glow radiated upwards from where it rested between their chests, washing both of their faces in soft, golden light. She watched his face, monitoring it for any sort of change…

… and then spat straight in it.

“Over. My. Dead. Body,” she hissed.

He inhaled sharply, and Anna flinched despite herself. She steeled herself for the inevitable blow from the back of his hand, but Hans merely wiped the spit from his face and stood. He stepped backwards towards the tree, eyes not leaving Anna’s. He remained like that for several, unending seconds, and then he looked down at the apple.

“So be it,” he said.

Anna watched his teeth sink into its flesh with a soft crunch.

The apple’s inner light flared and then died. It spread to his mouth, shimmering in waves that spread outwards across his face. The glow enveloped his whole skin, sinking underneath it, golden and pure.

Anna struggled to stand despite her lack of balance from the ropes. She teetered forward, trying to do something, _anything_ to stop him before it was too late, and fell. Her left knee hit the stone floor with a sharp crack and she cried out in pain. She managed to twist her head back up as the last of the golden glow was settling into his skin. Hans unwrapped the makeshift bandage she’d tied across his palm—his skin was unmarked. As he twisted his fingers, small flames began to dance across them. Anna sucked back an overwhelming, nauseous feeling of dread.

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” she said.

He clenched his fingers into a fist and the flames went out. His eyes snapped up to meet hers.

“What. Like you said you’d never forgive me for trying to kill both you and your sister?” He let out a chuckle. “Oh, Anna. We both know how long _that_ kind of a resolution lasts.”

Anna’s face burned with the sudden the sensation of his lips against hers, soft, even as his stubble had left mild scratches. The warmth that’d tingled its way through her entire body…

“Don’t worry,” Hans said, his words cutting through the memory and drawing her back to the present. “You won’t remember any of this soon.”

Anna paused briefly in confusion, ready to protest… and then somehow knew with horror _exactly_ what was coming next. The trolls had stolen her memories once, repackaging new ones in like they’d been nothing more than presents swapped beneath a Christmas tree. She had to remember, _had_ to be able to warn someone.

She scrambled away again, ignoring the flare of pain from her knee, but Hans quickly caught her by the shoulder. She tried to twist out of his grip, struggle and turn, but his hands gripped her with an inhuman, delicate strength. Her panic rocketed as he reached out to either side of her head. Tears sprung from the corners of her eyes.

“No,” she said. “You can’t do this.”

“Tsk. Anna. Anna…” he said in a lilting tone. “I gave you a way out, but you refused to take it.”

She continued to shake her head. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

His fingers pressed in deeper against her temples.

“Sssh,” Hans whispered, like it was actually something that’d ever comfort her. “I promise this won’t hurt one—”

* * *

Anna snapped open her eyes.

She was in the Valley of the Living Rock, lying on her back. The muscles in her shoulders were stiff; they protested as she slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. Above her, the stars had disappeared, washed out by the approaching grey-blue dawn. A number of trolls—and Kristoff and Sven—were still clustered around her. All asleep.

“Princess Anna?”

Pabbie was on her other side.

“I need to get back to the palace,” Anna told him. “I have to tell Elsa that…” The memories rushed back a second time. Her chest constricted, making it hard to breathe, and she spend the next few moments just concentrating on sucking in shallow gasps of air. “This is all my fault,” she managed between breaths. “Everything that’s been happening: Weideland, Corona. It’s all been—”

“Anna!”

Her head swiveled. Kristoff had woken up and was scrambling towards her. He grabbed her hand.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked. “How’s your head? Did you remember anything?”

“I’m— I’m fine.” Anna looked past him to where Sven and the other trolls were slowly starting to stir as well. “We need to get back to the palace.”

“What. Right now? You need rest, Anna. You need to—”

“I’ve been resting the whole night. I’m fine.” Anna turned to Pabbie. “I _am_ okay to go, aren’t I?”

“The whole night?” Kristoff said. “Anna, you’ve been asleep for a _day and half_. You need to get some water back into you. Some food. Some—”

A sudden roar of dread pounded against her ears and drowned out the rest of his words.

She’d been out for an entire day.

Anna shoved her hands against the ground and sprung up onto her feet. As she took her first step, the world itself tilted, and she stumbled, desperate to regain her balance. Her left knee throbbed with a phantom ache.

“Anna!” Kristoff shouted, hands wrapping around to stabilize her. “I said—”

She pushed him away.

“We need to get back to the palace,” she repeated, staring straight into his confused eyes. “Now.”


	24. Act Three: Part Four

Elsa’s hands gripped the sides of her throne, fingers whitening until they matched the tips of her hair. She tried to swallow her silly paranoias, the stray memories of years past… Oddly enough, she had never seen Hans’ sword back then, had never heard its swing until after it’d been deflected from Anna’s frozen form, but Elsa still woke up in cold sweat from the occasional nightmare all the same.

“Your majesty,” a nearby servant prompted.

Right. Everyone else was waiting for her. She reminded herself that everything was going to be okay. General Berg stood at her side, stoic and steady. Soldiers armed with crossbows flanked the left and right walls of her throne room, ten on each side, ready to fire at at a moment’s notice.

Elsa nodded stiffly. “Show him in.”

The doors to the throne room creaked opened. Eight guards entered—two in the front, four flanking the sides, two closing the gap behind—swords strapped to their waists. In their center stood the red-headed source of all her kingdom’s current miseries. Although his wrists were shackled together, his legs, Elsa noted with disdain, had been left untouched.

When the group reached the center of the room, Elsa raised her hand and they stopped.

“Queen Elsa,” Hans said smoothly, nodding just the barest of inches.

“Hans,” she replied.

“Oh, come now,” he said with a smile. “I used your proper title. Surely we can be civil and address one another as equals.”

“I _did_ use your proper title.”

Hans sighed. “I understand your reluctance to accept me as a legitimate king,” he said. “And I truly regret the bad blood that’s fallen between us.”

Elsa’s hands clenched tight around the arms of her throne. “Bad blood,” she repeated. “Is _that_ what they’re calling attempted murder these days?”

He tried to raise his hands in a wide, conciliatory gesture but was hampered by the shackles. He stared at them, frowning, before looking back up at Elsa. “No one can change the past.”

“Most people don’t need to,” Elsa said, ignoring a small cough from General Berg beside her.

“Well, that sounds like a lie,” he said. “Unless you’re saying there’s nothing in your life that you’ve ever regretted.”

All at once, she was eight years old again. The sight of Anna falling from a crumbling pillar of snow rushed into her mind—the whole next decade of their lives together, snuffed out in a matter of seconds. And if her currently fractured relationship was anything to go by, the damage from that incident was still ongoing. It’d continue to spread its cracks for the rest of their lives.

General Berg cleared his throat. “He’s baiting you, your majesty,” he whispered.

Elsa swallowed as her cheeks flushed with shame. Even knowing all his usual tricks, she was playing straight into his claws.

“You said you came to negotiate terms of peace?” she said, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.

“Correct.” Hans turned his head as he glanced at his surrounding guards. “Though I can’t say the warm welcome I’ve been receiving has been particularly _conducive_ to such negotiations so far.”

“Spare me the complaints,” Elsa said. “You know exactly why such measures are required, _and_ you were the one who agreed to them.”

“Perhaps… but then again, I’m not the one holding the other hostage right now. I’m not the one who declared war. So maybe our roles aren’t so black and white after all.”

Elsa inhaled sharply. The guards around Hans shifted their weight, used to sensing sudden snaps of chill in the air and knowing what usually followed.

“Arendelle only declared war _after_ you intentionally broke apart the Northern alliance,” she said, fighting the clawing urge to stand, to face him directly and show him the full force of her powers. “We declared war _after_ you started conquering the kingdoms that’d vowed to forever remain independent.”

“Your majesty,” Hans said, eyes wide as he let the ‘shock’ of the accusation drip through his voice. “Your trade coalition was formed as an economic attack against me. And I didn’t conquer anyone. Those kingdoms asked for my aid. They begged me. You could even say it was my Christian _duty_ to assist them.”

There was no other explanation—he was intentionally trying to make her retch out of pure, unadulterated disgust.

“No one manages to climb into power like you have by the sheer power of their benevolent heart,” Elsa said cooly.

“No,” Hans admitted. “They tend to be born into it. Which I suppose is that much better.”

General Berg cleared his throat again, sharp and insistent.

“It’s not better,” Elsa said, ignoring her advisor for at least one final strike. “But as far as I can see, the only current alternative is murdering your way to the top.”

Hans’ eyes narrowed. “Is that an accusation?”

“It’s a statement of fact.”

Hans shifted, the corners of his mouth tugging into an irritated frown. “For someone who claimed to be open to the idea peace, you’re being exceptionally hostile,” he said. “In light these horrible allegations, it wouldn’t be to rescind my offer of truce and… resume other courses of action.”

“Your majesty,” General Berg whispered. “Please think of—”

“Was that your excuse when you conquered all those other countries?” Elsa asked. “Imaginary attacks to your pride?”

“No,” Hans replied. “It was a statement of fact.”

Even as his face remained blank, there was a gleam in his eye. The left corner of his lips quirked up in a nearly imperceptible way; perhaps she was just imagining it. The throne room cracked open beneath her and Elsa felt herself teetering towards the edge of a precipice—every word from him a puff of wind that pushed her closer and closer. Berg was whispering directly into her ear now, urgently warning her to stop antagonizing the king and discuss whatever treaty he’d come here to propose.

And then she knew.

She knew that Hans hadn’t changed one bit from the conniving young prince who’d waltzed into her kingdom all those years ago, who’d almost been served the whole thing on a china platter. She knew that she could sign whatever document of peace they ultimately agreed upon, that she could follow it to the letter, and that he’d _still_ find a way to return his army to her doorstep before the year was out.

Any posturing and bargaining was useless and, more importantly, a waste of time while he put other hidden pieces into action.

She had to move to their fallback plan. Now.

Elsa stood. “Hans of House Westergaard,” she announced, ignoring the sudden panic in General Berg’s face. “I’m arresting you on behalf of treason against the royal family of Weideland—for the murder of Crown Princess Josephine and her father, King Henri.

The guards’ hands clamped down around Hans’ upper arms. A small frisson of joy shot through her at the way he flinched and his eyes widened in shock.

“I promised you _peace_ ,” he growled at her.

“You’ve promised a lot of things to a lot of people,” Elsa said. “Unfortunately most of them can’t be here to vouch for you. By some strange coincidence, they also happen to be dead.” She nodded at the leader of the guards. “Take him away.”

“Your majesty!” General Berg whispered. “I thought we’d agreed to do this only as a last resort! If he posed a threat!”

Elsa spun to face her advisor. “Look around,” she snapped. “We’re _already_ under threat. If you think he’d ever actually uphold anything we—”

“And to think I’d been hoping I wouldn’t have to resort to violence,” Hans said with a dismissive sigh.

The chill only had time to run halfway up her spine before she caught the flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. Elsa turned, to see Hans already free of his shackles. Two of his eight guards lay crumpled on the ground. As a third drew his sword, Hans kicked him in the stomach and he fell.

“Restrain him!” Elsa commanded, trying to squash the panic rising in the back of her throat.

It was fine. Even free, he was still outnumbered. Arendelle still had the upper hand. As the guards at the center of the room struggled to immobilize him, the soldiers lining the walls stepped forward with their crossbows. They wouldn’t shoot until she gave the direct order.

She didn’t want to the give it. Not yet.

She didn’t want to sink to his level.

As Hans sent a fourth man tumbling to the floor, Elsa sent out a blast of ice. Without so much as a flinch, Hans grabbed the sleeves of the nearest guard and spun him. The magic struck his back, encasing him in a frozen sheet as Hans stepped harmlessly out of the way.

Elsa sensed movement from the sides of the room; several men had raise their weapons.

“Don’t shoot!” she commanded. “You’ll hurt our own men!”

As the last word left her mouth, Elsa heard a high whistling pierce the air. She braced herself, expecting in horror to see it plunge towards the group at the center of the room, but the sound drew closer—

To her.

Elsa flinched, screwing her eyes shut as a wall of ice flung up subconsciously to protect her. She opened them to see a point of steel hanging two inches from her face. Its shaft was embedded through the ice, had been barely caught by its tail feathers. A different set of memories rushed back—her palace of ice, illuminated by the yellow tipped dawn as adrenaline spiked through her.

“I- I…” came the sound of a young voice, cracked and stuttering.

Elsa looked beyond her defensive wall to see a junior guard trembling. He stared in disbelief at his empty crossbow that was pointed directly at her. More movement caught her eye. Left and right, other soldiers were slowly turning their loaded weapons towards her, hands and limbs shaking, like they were being pulled by an unseen force…

Hans.

Elsa snapped her head back towards the center of the room. He was standing casually, seven guards lying crumpled by his feet while the eight still hung, trapped in her ice. He held one of their sheathed swords with both hands and kept his eyes locked with hers as he slowly withdrew it.

She inhaled sharply.

For her to have been such a stupid, gullible— Stone or not, he’d smuggled _something_ magical into the palace with him.

Two more arrows whistled towards her. Elsa blocked them with another wall, trying regroup her thoughts. A flash of silver caught her eye. Hans was rushing forward, closing the gap.

She tried to freeze him with another stream of ice, but he dodged it with a quick side-step, drawing even closer.

“Your majesty!” a voice choked out.

A split second warning before a third volley of arrows. She winced as she spun towards the source of the voice, forcing herself to freeze three of her soldiers directly to the wall. And then Hans was in right front of her—

She threw up a hasty ice shield. His sword crashed against it, sending up a spray of frost, before breaking through with a crash of ice and steel. Elsa narrowly dodged out of its path as it swung down towards the floor.

“What have you done to them?!” she snarled.

Hans only smirked before lifting his sword to strike again.

He had played her, corrupting her assumed advantages into his own. For each arrow she dodged from her own soldiers, another was reloaded. She dodged and weaved, defending herself against both arrow and soldier and Hans’ relentless attacks. She breathed heavily. If she could just hit _him_ , then whatever dark magic he’d managed to cast over her people would be broken.

Elsa cried out as an arrow grazed the side of her arm, leaving a bright smear of red.

She flinched, covering it with her fingertips, and that was all it took for Hans to move in for the kill. His sword swung forward. There was no time—

Elsa let out a primal scream, shutting her eyes as she desperately pulled from deep within her—deep, deep down past the palace floors and dungeons and into the cold heart of the earth itself—and then threw all of it forward. It left her limbs shaking and chest tingling with the aftershock. She kept her eyes closed, afraid of what she’d see once she opened them. Her head continued to spin, dizzy from the sheer force of the magic that she’d just ripped through her. Her breath came in heavy pants, still tense, still ready to stop any other stray arrows.

Nothing came.

The throne room was dead silent.

Elsa slowly cracked open one eye. Then the other.

Most of the walls were already coated in a thin icy layer, her guards trapped helpless behind them—a remnant from the earlier battling. Directly in front of her—dwarfing everything else—rose a massive, spike-filled burst of ice. Its jagged edges extended halfway towards the room’s ceiling, climbing and climbing like the one of them legendary dragons of old. Its spikes were pinning Hans’ slumped body against the wall.

No, Elsa realized with a drop of her stomach. It was doing more than pin.

One massive icicle had pushed its way straight through his chest.

Elsa stared at his body, still breathing heavily. She’d just taken a life. She’d just killed someone with her magic. That is, she’d done it before—those sailors in the fjord—but that’d been indirect. She’d simply taken the ice from beneath their feet. The water was the one that’d killed them. It hadn’t been—

She paused, breath catching in her throat.

There wasn’t any blood.

His hand twitched—a twitch of movement from what should’ve been a corpse.

Ice crawled up Elsa’s spine, freezing the conscious part of her mind, trapping and squeezing her lungs to nothing as Hans slowly lifted his head from where it’d been resting, lifeless, against his chest. He looked down at the spear of ice piercing his chest.

“Oh,” he said, sounding like someone commenting on nothing more than a dull bit of weather. “I’ve been impaled.”

Elsa stared at him in horror. She stepped backwards slowly, nearly tripping over the guards that were still lying in a crumpled pile on the floor. Even as she managed to steady herself, her knees shook.

A loud bang echoed behind her and her heart momentarily stopped.

“Elsa!”

That voice—

Elsa turned. Anna and Kristoff were both standing at the back of the throne room, its doors thrown wide open. They were staring straight past her, straight at Hans. Elsa tried to say something, to warn them to get away, but the sounds were stuck in her throat. She watched Anna rush forward and clamp both of her small, gloved hands around her own.

“He’s immortal now!” Anna said. “We have to run!”

Elsa tried to argue. She couldn’t just leave Hans in the throne room—her throne room—and run. She’d be abandoning the throne itself. She’d be abandoning _Arendelle_. But she’d already been dragged out into the eastern hallways by the time her head manage to string more than two words of coherent thought together.

“Anna, I can’t—”

A thunderous boom shook the palace around them. They all froze.

“What was that?” Kristoff asked.

Anna let go of Elsa’s hand and ran to the nearest window; her fingers gripped tightly against the sill as she stared out in silence. Elsa joined her, not entirely sure of what she was doing or why.

What’d just happened back in the throne room, it’d been a dream. Or an illusion. Or… or somethi—

Her thoughts, trapped beneath a swirling winter fog, shattered back into horrific clarity.

The ice that had enclosed the fjord—that had protected them from the world beyond—had completely melted. A fleet of foreign ships lay in Arendelle’s harbor, packed so tightly that their masts rose up together like a crude, avalanched-stripped forest. Their port sides faced the palace, row after row of black iron lined their decks.

Canons.

“Duck!” a voice shouted.

It wasn’t until she was tackling Anna to the floor that Elsa realized it’d been her own.

The blast hit somewhere above them. Bits of plaster fell from the ceiling, pattering against the top of her head. There were screams in the distance. Elsa took a deep breath and then began to help her sister back up.

“We have to abandon the city,” Kristoff suddenly said.

“What,” Elsa said.

Anna groaned. “It’s all my fault,” she muttered into her hands. “If we’d gotten here sooner… If I’d _remembered_ sooner…”

“Remembered?” Elsa repeated. “What— Wait, no. This is—You mean that apple dream of yours is related to all of this? To—”

She jumped at a sudden touch to her back; Kristoff was herding both of them forward with his arms.

“Guys, you might not have noticed, but we’re kind of under attack,” he said. “Escape first. Crazy god explanations later.”

Elsa stared at him.

“God?!”

The castle shook again with the force of a second impact, and Kristoff shoved both of them forward into a run.

“Wait,” Elsa said, stopping the others at the next intersection. “If you really want to escape, you should use the east wing tunnels.”

Anna shook her head. “Hans, knows about those.”

“What. How?”

“Well, you see, I…” She swallowed, gloved hands twisting together. “I kind of showed them to him during your coronation party way back when?”

“You _what_?!”

“I know, I know! But you don’t understand. There was just this gorgeous waterfall along the fjord that I really _really_ wanted to show him.”

“You let someone know one of our palace’s greatest secrets for a _waterfall_?!”

“Um, guys?” Kristoff said. “The attack?”

“Anna, how could you be so stupid?”

“It’s okay,” her sister said with an irritatingly naive half-smile and a shrug. “We can just use the southern tunnels.”

“The southern tunnels are on the opposite side of the palace!” Elsa said.

“Oh, come on. They’re not on the _opposite_ side—”

“Anna, he has the power to turn the whole palace against us! Our own soldiers shot at me, tried to kill me, because of _him_! You’ve compromised a possible escape route, maybe our only escape route, and you’re arguing about semantics?!” Elsa groaned. “Everything you’ve done has put all of us in danger! Over and over, I’ve _warned_ you that trusting him puts us in danger! You’re going to get us all killed and it’s all because you just don’t _think_ , Anna!”

Anna’s smile vanished. Her lip trembled.

“You think I don’t know that?” she suddenly snapped, stepping into Elsa’s personal space. “You don’t think that if I had the power to go back in time and change every single _stupid_ little thing I’ve ever done, I wouldn’t? I wish I could. _God_ , I wish I could. But I can’t! So we can either keep standing around, arguing about whose fault this really is while waiting to get captured, or we can—”

The corridor exploded.

Elsa was knocked backwards to the floor in a splintered mess of ceiling plaster and wood. The world spun around her, mixing up with down. She had to wait for it to stabilize enough before she could attempt to regain her feet. She blinked and then blinked again—everything was still a blur of shapes and shades. Her ears rang, all sound drowned out by a high tinned pitch. A muffled voice was calling someone’s name in the distance. Kristoff’s voice.

“Anna!” he yelled.

Everything snapped back into focus. Heart racing, Elsa pushed herself the rest of the way up and suddenly teetered—the blood had rushed from her head too quickly. Nearby Kristoff knelt by Anna’s side; a large pile of rubble had fallen behind her, pinning her leg.

Elsa’s face whitened.

“Anna!” she shouted, rushing to her sister’s side.

She jammed her fingers beneath the largest plank of wood with Kristoff and heaved. They ignored the fainter rumblings from other parts of the castle getting bombarded—perhaps the town itself was under attack now—as they slowly lifted the heavy beam. Others from the pile started rolling forward to take its place. Elsa screamed at them and they froze into one, immobile clump.

Anna, now free, slumped forward into their arms, breathing heavily.

“How’s your…?” Kristoff began to ask. He cut himself off with a tense swallow.

Anna’s leg was bleeding. Heavily.

Anna followed his gaze, stared at it a moment, then looked back up at the two of them. “You have to keep going,” she said calmly. “Leave me behind.”

Elsa stared at her. “What?” she said. “No! That’s ridiculous, Anna! We’re not—”

“You’re the only one who’s any possible threat to Hans now,” Anna said. “He hates you. If he captures you, he’ll _kill_ you.”

“He’ll kill _me_? What about you?” she demanded. “He could kill you too.”

“No one’s getting left behind,” Kristoff said, already tearing off his outer coat. “If we can just wrap it up, stop the bleeding… Elsa, can your magic do anything?”

“N-no, the frostbite…” Elsa wrung her hands together. “I think it’d just end up making things worse.”

“Alright, then help me with this—”

“Stop!” Anna yelled. “Just both of you, stop! Even if you got me out of the palace without bleeding to death, Hans controls the fjords now. We’d have to escape over one of the passes. I…” She closed her eyes. “I’d never make it.”

“But we can’t just _leave_ y—”

Elsa flinched as another cannonball hit nearby. Her heart thudded as the pile of rubble behind them shook, but it remained held in place by her ice.

“Yes, you can!” Anna snapped through labored breath. She tried to push away Kristoff away as he wrapped his coat around her leg, but her hands only moved in half-hearted swats. “He won’t kill me. Not… not while…” She hissed as Kristoff tied the ends of the sleeves together. “Not while I’m a valuable bargaining chip for him to get to you.”

“Anna!” Olaf’s voice suddenly called in the distance. “Kristoff!”

Kristoff bit out a curse. “We left him with Sven,” he explained to Elsa. “Told him to come find us if there was an emergency.”

Anna nodded. “Go,” she said.

Elsa’s hands trembled. Her brain knew that running was the logical thing to do. She’d flee her kingdom for now, then regroup and recover before coming back to fight another day. But she refused to do that. Refused to leave her sister bleeding out on the palace floors.

“What if we only took you with us part of the way?” Kristoff said. “Hans doesn’t know about the valley. We can leave you with my family, and they should have some medicinal—”

“You there!” barked a man’s voice. “Halt!”

Elsa whirled around. Seven of Weideland’s soldiers were standing at the end of the hallway, armed with a mix of swords and crossbows.

“Leave me!” Anna yelled. “Run!”

“But…” Elsa said.

Her thoughts scattered as one of the soldiers lifted his crossbow and fired. Elsa was tackled out of its path by Kristoff, then dragged back up onto her feet into a run. They’d already made the turn into the next hallway before she realized that Anna wasn’t with them.

“What are you _doing_?!” Elsa ripped her hand from his. “We can’t just leave her. They’ll kill her!”

Kristoff took a deep breath. “Anna was right. You’re the one they really want.” He tried to grab Elsa’s hand again, but she clutched it tight to her chest. “As long as you manage to escape, they shouldn’t harm her. She’s too valuable.”

“Valuable?” Elsa said in disbelief. “Anna’s not an object.”

“I never said she was— Shit!”

An arrow flew past them as four of the soldiers rounded the corner in chase. Kristoff took advantage of Elsa shock’s to seize her hand and take off again.

“Anna needs medical attention,” he said puffs of breath. “Now that they’ve found her, they’ll give it to her.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Look, she…” He paused at an intersection. “Where’s that escape tunnel you were talking about?”

Finally able to catch her breath, Elsa turned and summoned an ice wall to seal them off from the hallway behind them. “I am _not_ leaving without Anna,” she said, tearing welled at the corners of her eyes. They burned against her skin.

“We already did!” Kristoff snapped.

“No, _you_ did! You left her behind and then dragged me off with you!”

Kristoff groaned, running his hands down his face. “You want to go back there?” he said. “Fine. The soldiers already have her which means Hans already has her, and unless you’ve come up with a way of defeating the latest god of chaos and evil that’s more effective than stabbing him through the heart–”

Elsa let out a scoff of disbelief. “Hans isn’t a god. People don’t just _become_ gods.”

“Then how do explain what just happened back there in the throne room?”

“I…”

“You stabbed him in the heart, Elsa. Anna and I both saw it. And he just laughed it off.”

“Maybe I missed,” she said, straining to believe her own words. “I had to have missed. There was probably some trick of the light that confused—”

There was a loud thud—the soldiers had reached her ice wall and were trying to smash their way through. Elsa inhaled slowly. They’d never break through; she could simply strengthen it when they got close enough… and then strengthen it again and again… but if the Weideland soldiers had gotten this far into the palace, they’d find another way around. She have to put up another wall, and then another wall, and then eventually she’d just be trapping herself in a cage.

Kristoff grabbed both of her hands, forcing her to look at him. “If we want to save Anna, we’ve going to have to find a way to defeat Hans.”

“A way to defeat a god,” Elsa clarified.

Kristoff closed his eyes and then nodded.

Elsa swallowed. “Is that even possible?”

“There’s only way to find out.”

An even louder thud echoed through the hallway, followed by the sound of a crack splintering across the ice. Elsa forced herself to keep breathing. If she left now—if she abandoned her palace, her kingdom, her sister—she’d never be able to forgive herself for the rest of her life. But at the same time, if there was a way to fix all this by running, if there was a chance—even the tiniest of ones—and Elsa didn’t take it, if she stayed and fought like Hans obviously wanted her to, if she got herself captured too… got herself killed…

Elsa screwed her eyes shut, ignoring the way her heart seemed to be skipping every other beat now, and nodded grimly. With a small wrist flick, she strengthened the temporary barrier behind them. It’d give them some extra time, something increasingly in short supply. Then, taking Kristoff’s hand in hers, she began to head towards the southern escape tunnels.

* * *

Anna fought to keep upright. She sat on the floor of the destroyed hallway, her back pressed up against the wall. Two soldiers stood guard over her, their crossbows pointing straight down at her chest.

She should’ve been scared. She should’ve been terrified.

Instead, all she felt was a dull sensation of being scraped thin, like a tiny dollop of jam over her morning toast: the stress and chaos of the last twenty-four hours was finally pulling her apart. Her crushed leg only added to the experience, the injury bypassing all her usual pain circuits and fueling the dizzy tumble in her head.

“So what now?” Anna asked, cracking a half-crazed smile.

The soldiers’ expressions didn’t change. The taller one tightened his grip around his crossbow as if she’d just issued some kind of veiled threat instead of some stupid icebreaker. Then again, if they were Hans’ men, who knew what kind of weird, mixed signals they’d been having to deal with.

Anna couldn’t feel her leg anymore. She didn’t know if it that was part of the shock and adrenaline protecting her or if she’d finally just lost _that_ much blood. Kristoff’s coat, brown to begin with, was stained an even darker mahogany… or ebony… or whatever that weird mixture of brown and dark red came out to be.

She slumped forward, poking at the coarse fabric.

“Back against the wall!” the taller soldier barked.

Anna wanted to laugh but her lungs didn’t seem to have the energy. She focused on breathing out and in.

The shorter soldier was alternating between staring at her and stealing glances at what Anna was now guessing to be the commanding officer of the two. His mouth kept twitching like he was trying to keep it pressed together. Like he was trying to stay emotionless. A sudden spark flared through her.

Anna could use that.

She winced again and renewed her examination of her leg, careful to keep any actual pressure off it.

“I thought I said back up!” the commanding solider said.

“What exactly do you think I’m going to do?” Anna bit out. “Bleed on you?”

“Maybe we should be nicer to her,” the shorter soldier ventured. “I mean, she _does_ look pretty bad.”

“Oh, because being ‘nice’ is going to magically heal her wounds,” the other said. “We already sent Gareth to fetch a doctor. It’s too risky to move her… so what do you propose we do?”

“Yeah, but what if you-know-who blames us for… well, her condition…”

Anna stared up at them. They’d pretty much just implied that Hans wanted her unharmed. Well, a somewhat liberal definition of unharmed at the very least. The thought was mildly… comforting, but it didn’t change her next plan of action in the slightest. Even with her leg, she couldn’t just let herself stay here, get passively capture by the man who’d ripped open her heart and betrayed her.

Twice.

Anna was at level with the soldiers’ knees. If she could just wait for them to get a _bit_ more distracted…

“Worse comes to worse, we’ll blame any other injuries on this castle that’s half-falling apart. He’ll never know the difference.”

“Maybe… but she’s a princess.”

“Princess, hah! What does that have to do with—?”

The two braced themselves as another cannonball struck a distant part of the palace, sending slight tremors through the floor.

Her chance.

Anna flung herself forward, tackling the legs of the commanding soldier while biting back the sudden scream of pain from her leg. He crashed to the floor and his crossbow tumbled into reach. Anna’s hands fumbled around it before gripping firm. She pointed it at the two men as she crawled out of their grasps, and then clumsily pushed herself back up onto her one good foot. The soldier she’d knocked down stayed down; the other just stared back in confusion.

She kept them in her sights as she hugged the wall, keeping most of her body weight leaned against it while she hobbled backwards, slow step by single step.

“Really?” came the sudden, awful sound of a voice behind her—the last she wanted to hear. “Two trained men taken hostage by an invalid? Pathetic.”

Anna spun around. She wanted to shove the crossbow point straight into his chest and slam back the trigger, wanted to show him just how ‘pathetic’ she was, but the suddenness of the movement was all wrong. The bone in her leg cracked further apart. She took in a ragged gasp of pain. Her good leg buckled beneath her and she was falling, the world dipping black before she even managed to hit the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. That was one of the most challenging chapters I've ever written. Hope all the stuff I jammed in makes up for the rather long wait. (Sorry about that!) Next chapter should be more on schedule... though it's also going to be the last chapter in Act Three and the last chapter before my winter hiatus.
> 
> Also, author fun fact: the final scene of this involved me crawling and hopping around my apartment with a heavy object in one hand to make sure that Anna could actually do the things I wanted her to do with only one good leg and free arm/hand. Yay, writer challenges.
> 
> Also also, misappropriating that Olaf quote might've been 40% of the inspiration for this entire fic.


	25. Act Three: Part Five

Anna’s eyes snapped open.

She was lying in her bed, the room empty, covers drawn up close to her neck. Her left leg ached with only the echo of a throb.

Perhaps it’d only been a bad dream. Anna briefly shut her eyes and _prayed_ that it’d only been one bad, totally messed-up dream—that every terrible thing since her golden apple tree nightmare had just been extension of it. A product of her overactive imagination.

No immediate answer came.

Anna slowly pushed her blankets away, expecting a mess of bandages and blood, but all that greeted her was her own, unstained powder-blue nightdress. She pulled it up and revealed nothing more than a bare, unmarked leg. Anna ran her hands down its length, confirming that it was all still there in one piece, and then swung both her legs over the side of her bed. There was a bit of wobblyness on her left side, a seeping soreness in the muscles like she’d gotten sometimes the morning after a long run, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Ordinary.

She shoved that disconcerting feeling into the back of her head as she padded her way across the cold, palace floors. Her desk was bare; she couldn’t remember if she’d left the apple there or not.

Anna didn’t know exactly what she was expecting, but as she reached the nearest window and pulled aside the curtain, she gasped all the same.

Her sister’s ice had completely vanished from the harbor, replaced by an armada of war ships. War ships that Arendelle had spent the last several months fighting to keep out.

All of it had been real.

All of it had been real and she was trapped here and she—

There was a creak from her bedroom door.

Anna froze. Her fingers gripped the window sill, and now—removed from the threat of crossbows and the pain and the pounding adrenaline of it all—she _was_ scared.

“You’re awake,” Hans said.

That was it. No apologies, no gloating, no demands, no metaphorical twirl of the mustache… just one obvious statement of physical observation.

Anna kept quiet, her eyes locked on the ships outside, knowing that he was waiting for her response. He _wanted_ her to say something, he _wanted_ something he could twist to use against her.

“You told your sister I was immortal,” he continued. “You barely paused to stare at what she’d done to me, her ice piercing straight through my chest. You just grabbed her hand and ran.” He paused, and the silence draped over her bedroom like suffocating, tooth-rotting honey. “Which means you remember.”

There was a phantom crack in her knee as she remembered falling against the cave floor, as she remembered the way he’d leant forward, holding out the glittering apple…

Anna swallowed, forcing the memories back. She kept her gaze straight as she focused on a tiny point, distant on the horizon. “You healed my leg?” she asked.

He didn’t immediately respond.

“I didn’t want you fainting on me again,” was his eventual explanation.

Anna took a deep breath. “So you can wipe memories, heal wounds, melt my sister’s ice… oh, and you can’t die,” she said. “Any other important powers I’m missing?”

“If this is your grand strategy to discover any secret weaknesses, it’s an extremely pathetic one,” Hans drawled. “I expected better from you.”

“Oh, so you have expectations now?” Anna said before she could stop herself. “That’s new. And here I thought I was useless at everything in your eyes.”

Hans sighed. “Or play the self-pity game. That works too.”

Anna bit down on her lower lip, trying not to let her temper snap. She failed.

She spun around, keeping her fists balled tight at her sides.

Hans was standing in her doorframe, wearing a jacket of deep, velvet blue trimmed with gold. A matching crown rested atop his perfectly trimmed hair. He leaned casually against the painted wood, as if invisibly barricaded from her room proper like some kind of ginger vampire. Before her heart could put any hope into that theory, he took a step forward and outstretched his arms.

“I never wanted any of this to happen,” he said with just a tinge of sorrow.

Fake sorrow.

Anna narrowed her eyes. “Really.”

“Believe it or not, I prefer my transfers of power to be as bloodless as possible. It’s what’s best for the realm.”

The wisp of a metallic shing echoed in her memory and Anna was back on the fjord, two days after her sister’s coronation, watching his sword descend in a terrible arc—

“What’s best for the realm…” Anna repeated. “So conjuring that blizzard and killing thousands of people is your definition of bloodless?”

Hans took a deep breath. “So you remember that too.”

Anna crossed her arms, waiting for him to give her an actual response.

“They were…” Hans’ lips twisted, apparently struggling for right words. “…an unfortunate sacrifice.”

Anna let out a scoff of disbelief.

Horror crashed over with rage until she was drowning in it. God-like powers or not, Anna couldn’t stand another minute in his presence. Despite verging back into “stupid decision” territory, she crossed her room, trying to storm out the door. Hans blocked her.

Obviously.

“Let me go,” she demanded.

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” she asked, despite already knowing the answer. “You let the Prince Frederick of Wallonia do whatever _he_ wanted after you conquered his kingdom.”

“Prince Frederick,” he said, shifting his body as she tried to dart around him, “didn’t have a vengeful, fugitive sister with magic powers out only God knows where.”

Anna paused and glanced up, meeting his eyes. He couldn’t have just admitted…

“You mean she—?”

“Escaped? Yes. Of course…” Hans added, as her face flickered in doubt, “I could be lying. I could be filling your heart with false hope while she rots in some dungeon.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter _what_ I say, you’ll never believe me.”

Anna tried studying his face for any semblance or hint of truth, but it was infuriatingly blank. Then, the corners of his lips twitched up into a smirk, and suddenly it was taking all she had to keep herself from slamming her fist into his perfect nose. With his new god-like powers, he’d shrug the injury off, leaving her hand as the only thing in pain.

Sometimes, despite the blow to her pride, it was better to retreat.

At least for now.

Anna moved back into the center of her room, grabbed the chair by her desk, spun it around to face him, and plopped down.

“So,” she said, crossing her legs.

Hans leaned back against the wall. “So.”

“There never was any stone.”

Hans glanced up towards the ceiling like he had to seriously think about her statement. “No,” he finally said. “Well, there was _a_ stone. A perfectly ordinary stone that I scraped off the ground while faking the evidence of a sudden earthquake. I did it up a bit, of course—a sparkly bit of child’s play considering the full depth of the magic I’d just gained.” He took a moment to chuckle. “And you were so obsessed that I didn’t touch it that you actually _carried_ the damn thing all the way back down the mountain. About how heavy was it again? Ten pounds? Twenty?”

Anna stayed silent beneath the jabs of his mockery.

“Oh, then everyone else was just obsessed with it too,” he continued. “Did you know, when Corona fell to me, the first thing they did was bundle the stone away? As long as it didn’t fall into my hands, they believed they still had hope. They believed your sister would have to power to stop me.

“I let them believe. Call it one of my smaller mercies… or tortures. I guess it all depends on your personal brand of philosophy. Of course, even that grew increasingly tedious. I stopped bothering with the illusion about a week ago, curious, I guess for whatever changes it would bring. That and I hoped it’d help finally flush out the remaining rebels.”

Anna swallowed, the movement painful against the rest of her stiff body. Her thoughts raced to Rapunzel and Eugene. She wanted to ask Hans about them, wanted to hear that they were still safe, but to ask now would link their names straight to any rebellion, probably just as he hoped…

Oh, who was she kidding? Their names were probably already at the top of any rebellion list he had, regardless of whatever input she gave now.

“Unfortunately, the move was less exciting than I’d hoped,” Hans admitted. “I received no messages from my spies, no reports of altered behavior.” He smiled again, slow and predatory. “You on the other hand… Did Corona manage to get some kind of warning to you? Did they think that someone had _stolen_ it?”

Anna refused to give Hans the satisfaction of knowing just how much Rapunzel’s note had torn at her and her sister. Instead, she thought back to the secret cavern where she and Hans had originally discovered the stone, the cavern of the golden tree. Only there’d hadn’t been a tree that first—second?—time, just the stone and the equally-rough pedestal it’d been resting on…

“What happened to the tree?” Anna asked.

Hans snorted. “What? Hoping to send your sister out there? Give her the same gifts it gave me? Well, I already thought about that possible future.” He raised a hand in front of his face. As he flexed his fingers, a small flame jumped into life and began to dance between them. Anna flinched, but Hans didn’t seem to notice. “And I took the measures I needed to prevent it.”

Anna stared at him, frowning in confusion, and then her eyes snapped wide.

Their footprints in the snow… The ash on the bottom of her boots…

“You burnt it?” she breathed, the words coming out at barely a whisper. Her heart clenched at the loss of something that old… that unearthly beautiful.

Hans closed his fist and looked directly at Anna. “I wasn’t going to let myself become part of a pantheon.”

A biting chill slid up her back and she had to force herself to keep eye contact with him. Anna firmly told herself that if he’d really wanted her dead, he would’ve done it ages ago. He would’ve murdered her on the way back from the cave. He wouldn’t have healed her leg, instead letting it bleed out and out and out…

She uncrossed her legs, placing both feet firmly on the floor.

“If you’ve had these powers this whole time, why didn’t you just conquer the world outright?” she asked. “We could’ve sent all of our armies against you at the same time and we still wouldn’t have been able to stop you.”

Hans sighed. “Oh Anna… as much as I appreciate the compliment, that’s where you fail to understand. Like I said, I never wanted any of this to happen.” He swept his hand in a wide arc, seemingly at the furnishings of her bedroom, but Anna knew it was directed towards the ships and soldiers and general chaos outside. “Only an idiot wants to be a conquerer, to toss and turn sleepless in the dark, surrounded by nightmares of which lingering loyalists are waiting to stab them in the back.”

“Funny,” Anna bit out. “I wouldn’t have thought the threat of stabbing was such a pressing concern for you anymore.”

Hans grinned, and Anna immediately regretted speaking. She was letting herself get pulled back into their old, easily flowing campfire banter—nasty on the surface but cleansed by a somewhat light-hearted current underneath. Hans didn’t deserve even a speck of light from her. Not anymore.

At the same time, Anna’s only other effective option was silence, and—as always—she didn’t know if she was even _capable_ of maintaining that. Especially not while she still wanted answers.

“The point is,” Hans said. “I want citizens who love me… Or at least citizens who don’t cower at the sight of me like I’m the latest incarnation of the devil.”

He paused as if waiting on another snarky response.

“And in that I think I’ve been successful,” he continued as though there hadn’t been the slightest gap between the two sentences. “You saw them at the wedding, didn’t you? The way all the courtiers practically flocked to my side, desperate to catch my eye. I am… their _radiant_ sun.”

“Only because they don’t know about the foul, black shadow skulking underneath,” Anna blurted out before mentally slapping herself.

Hans waved his hand dismissively. “A minor thing, really. Especially when compared to my other virtues.”

“Virtues.”

“Sure. I’m rich, I’m handsome, I rule ten separate kingdoms…” He glanced up, counting fingers on one hand. “Or I suppose, eleven, now that Arendelle’s been added to mix.” He looked at Anna. “You _will_ tell my new subjects to submit peacefully, won’t you? Like I said, I hate unnecessary bloodshed.”

Anna started, her mind still trapped back on his earlier words, staggered at just how far Hans had been able to claw his way through society. In every kingdom but Arendelle, he’d managed to paint himself as the victim, as a savior. He basked in their saintly perceptions of him like some kind of mountain stream that had the power to wash all the nastiness of his actual soul away.

If that happened, she thought, would there even be anything left?

She tried to remember the number of people that had surrounded him at Frederick’s wedding. It’d been a massive crowd, men pressing together as well as women. There’d been old and young, married and unmarried…

Anna took a deep breath. “What did you do to Princess Josephine?” she asked. “The truth.”

“Do?” Hans said, scoffing. “I didn’t _do_ anything.”

“If you honestly expect me to believe for one second that she died of natural causes after everything you just admitted—”

“She did die of natural causes though,” he said, and his voice was so full of conviction that, for a moment, Anna almost considered the poss— “Drowning is a natural cause. It’s as natural as freezing to death, starvation,”—his head tilted left and right as he listed each cause—“the plague…”

Anna’s stomach flipped. She couldn’t remember eating any food in the past couples days, but it threatened to come up all the same. She crumpled in her chair, burying her face in her hands.

“We were on the same ship,” Hans continued as though nothing was wrong, “caught out at sea in the same storm… It’s not my fault she didn’t have the abilities in her to survive a full week out there, exposed to the cold and the salt and the wind.”

Tears were welling in Anna’s eyes, blurring what was left of her vision, and despite screaming at herself to not let herself cry in front of him, she didn’t have the power to stop them.

There was something wrong with Hans.

Something fundamentally _wrong_.

The worst part was that she’d known it was coming and she’d still denied it. Even as she’d raced back to Arendelle with Kristoff and Sven, desperate to warn her sister; even as she’d remembered Hans’ confession in the cave about the blizzard, the blizzard _he_ had caused; even knowing the further chaos he’d be able to create now as a… as a… as someone with god-like powers, there’d still been a tiny, stupid— _so stupid_ —part of her that had clung to the naive possibility that at least _some_ of the disasters of the past two years had been plain cruel chance.

He wanted to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.

Said the man who’d carelessly slaughtered thousands.

But hey. Apparently that was all okay in his book because people had to actually _know_ about his crimes for them to actually matter, and no one did.

No one but her.

Anna’s breath caught. The room was silent.

“What if I refuse?” she asked quietly, not looking up from her hands.

“Refuse what?”

“What if I refuse to play this game of yours?” she lifted her head, painfully conscious of the puffy redness that must’ve ringed her eyes. “What if I refuse to help Arendelle bend its knee?”

Hans didn’t look half as perturbed as she would’ve hoped. “It’d be regrettable,” he admitted. “But nothing I wouldn’t be able to work around.”

“So, that means what? You’ll lock me up in the palace? Toss me in the dungeons?”

“Dungeons?” he said with a small laugh. “Anna, I’m not _that_ heartless. A general palace house-arrest will be more than suitable—well…” A shiver ran up her spine at the way he dragged the syllable out. “Obviously, it wouldn’t necessarily be _this_ palace.”

Anna stared at him, fighting to keep her breaths steady and even.

“Come on, Anna. You didn’t think I’d be stupid as that, did you?” Hans shook his head as he pushed himself off the wall. “You’ve spent the majority of your life here. You know each room, each and every hidden corridor.” His eyes flicked towards the surrounding walls, and he frowned. “You have friends here—helpful, irritating hands begging to scratch their way out of the stonework… No, you’ll be coming back to Weideland with me.”

“As your hostage,” Anna spat out.

“Hostage? Oh, nothing that crude.” He held out his arms in a welcoming gesture. “You’d be my esteemed guest.”

Anna glared back; it was an appalling cliché line, even for someone like him.

“You see, Anna… _you_ ,” Hans continued airily, like she was somehow enraptured instead of disgusted by his every word, “are going to be the key that unlocks the glorious united future of our two kingdoms.”

He extended one of his hands towards her, palm up, smiling like he _actually_ expected her to take it. Like he expected her to agree to even a single step of his twisted dance after everything he’d just done to her. To her sister. To her kingdom.

To the world.

Anna stood and approached him, keeping her hands clasped tightly together within the folds of her dress to avoid even the smallest chance of them brushing against his own.

“I think I’ve already given you my answer regarding that,” she managed to say calmly. “And since you don’t seem to remember, I guess I’ll just have to repeat it.”

His face betrayed nothing of whatever emotions lurked underneath, assuming he actually had any. His eyes remained clear but hard. Anna leaned in closer and closer until she risked feeling his breath hot against her face.

And paused.

“Over my dead body,” she whispered.

They remained like statues in the center of her bedroom, eyes locked with one another, the occasional lip muscle twitching in the silence. Anna waited for Hans to make the next move, more than conscious of the fact that his next words could very well be along the lines of“that could be arranged.”

Suddenly he smirked.

Giving her a nod so slight Anna thought might’ve imagined it, he turned and took his leave. As her bedroom door swung shut behind him, its hollow thud echoed disconcertingly, dropping like a stone against the ripples of dread in her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! I think that's one of the longest dialogue-only scenes I've ever written, but I think the build-up justified it. From here on out, it's ~~turtles~~ Hans/Anna all the way down. Well, dark!Hans/Anna, but hey. I'm a villain shipper for a reason.
> 
> Unfortunately the end of Act Three _does_ mean the end of my regularly scheduled chapters. I will come back with Act Four once I finish the next draft of the original novel I'm writing (tentatively planned for early February???). Until then, I'll be posting small snippets of original notes, timelines, Hans' brother character sheets, etc over at my tumblr.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for being such awesome readers!
> 
> I'll close out by leaving you guys with just [one of the many inspirational songs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mPaC3ydJU98) that I listen to while writing this fic (and the song that happened to be playing while I finished the last of my edits for this chapter), courtesy of the flawless lady in my icon.


	26. Act Four: Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my original stuff's going a bit slower than expected, but I promised you guys a chapter near the beginning of February so here it is. I'll do monthly updates until I finish up what I wanted to, and then switch to biweekly updates after that.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

****The knotted bedsheets were slick beneath Anna’s sweating palms. She swallowed nervously, screaming at herself not to look down. One loose grip and that’d be it. Hans would be cleaning her remains off the castle flagstones.

Which, she realized grimly, _still_ wasn’t the worst possible fate in the world for her now.

Her feet scrambled for purchase on the wall as she lowered herself at an agonizingly glacial pace. Someone was going to see her. Someone was going to stop her. Someone was—

She reached the bottom, the ground cold and damp beneath the thin soles of her slippers. Anna wanted boots, had asked her silent maids for them every day since she’d arrived, but apparently they’d been deemed unnecessary and therefore hadn’t been provided.

Her new life in a nutshell.

The makeshift rope trailed from the third floor window of her bedroom, hanging in stark contrast against the castle’s dark stone, a sad, limp arrow pointing straight towards her. It wouldn’t be long before someone noticed her escape. Anna forced herself to keep moving.

The kitchen and servants wings were to her left. Anna pressed herself behind the row of bushes that lined the castle’s inner walls and scurried past, pausing whenever she caught a glimpse of movement, a snatch of conversation. She needed to get to the stables. She’d studied them from her room, had studied the whole castle, counting each horse that had trotted in and out, coming and going as they pleased between her prison and the rest of the world. Anna just needed to make it there, steal a horse, gallop to the edge of the forest visible from her window, lose herself in the maze beneath its branches, and then…

Well, for now she’d make herself focus on step one.

The stables were a collection of five seperate buildings. Anna crouched hidden by the entrance of the nearest one. Two stablehands chatted inside. She waited for them leave, the early March mud sinking into her slippers and soaked her socks. She shifted on the balls of her feet, wincing at the sound of the resulting squelches. At last the stablehands moved onto another building and she seized her chance.

There were twenty horses between this roof, ten stalls on each side. Anna decided on a grey gelding next to the outside doors. If the stablehands returned, there’d only be a few short feet between her and freedom. A short beam of wood held the doors shut, liftable, even for her. Anna didn’t bother trying to find the gelding’s saddle, barely allowed herself the time to grab its bridle from a peg at the front of the stall and slip it over its head. Running her hand down its nose to reassure it—to reassure herself, Anna led it slowly out of its stall. The stable was still blessedly empty as she wound the gelding’s reins around one hand and began to push up on the beam. The final barrier.

“Here, let me help you with that.” A pair of gloved hands joined Anna’s own.

Her blood turned to ice. She jumped and spun, feet stumbling back until she was pressed against the gelding’s side.

Hans easily lifted the beam and used it to poke open the doors. He flipped it vertically, resting one end on the ground and his chin on the other. He smirked at her.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, nodding sideways at the open doors. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Anna stared at the budding field lying just beyond the castle’s outer walls. The snows had melted two days ago, leaving an expanse of mottled browns and greens. It stretched out for over a mile, ending at the dark line of the forest that’d been her goal. Still _was_ her goal.

It hurt to look at. Her chest felt too small for her breaths, her heart sliced and weak.

Hans had been watching her entire escape attempt, had let her burn her energy on total uselessness. Running now would do nothing. It’d just twist the forest into yet _another_ one of his playgrounds, corrupting the little hope she had left.

She suck in a furious breath and shoved the gelding’s reins at Hans’ chest. The only admission of surrender she’d ever give.

He looked down at them in confusion. “ _I_ wasn’t the one to put them on.”

Anna kept her fist extended. Her whole arm began to tremble with a combination of the physical effort of keeping it lifted and her simmering rage, and then she whirled back around towards the gelding’s stall, accidentally yanking the horse with her. It whinnied in pain.

Anna flinched.

She coaxed the horse towards her, whispering breathy apologizes too soft for Hans to hear as she stroked its muzzle. Her silence was the only weapon she had left. The only anything she had left. It annoyed Hans, which was enough to kept her going as she waited for Elsa to come and rescue her and defeat Hans once and for all.

Anna removed the gelding’s bridle as slowly as possible, hoping Hans would run out of patience and leave before she sidled out of its stall.

He hadn’t.

“Giving up so easily?” he asked. There was an infuriating twinge of disappointment in his voice. “And after all that fine knot-work with the bedsheets… Tell you what. Start running now and I’ll give you an hour’s head start. That should more than enough time for you to reach that forest of yours, which is where you were headed, wasn’t it?”

Anna breathed in and out, letting Hans’ words wash over her. Or at least she tried to. They snagged at her like a bramble thicket that refused to die, no matter how much it got cut back year after year.

“No? Well, alls the pity. Maybe another day.” He nodded at the doors and they swung shut themselves with a thud that echoed dully in Anna’s chest. He dropped the beam back into place and then held out his arm to her. “Shall we?”

Anna stared at it blankly. Her brain could only hold so much anger, and she’d run out of the amount allotted towards his patronizing attempts at seeming a cordial host instead of the moralless kidnapper he was.

Clasping her hands in front of her, Anna turned silently and began the humiliating trudge up back to her room. Hans followed beside her, a sickening, unshakable presence that scratched at the insides of her skin. She fantasized about punching him, clawing at him with nails and teeth and anything else she could sink into his flawlessly smooth skin.

And then he’d just laugh at her. He’d probably even enjoy it.

So she didn’t.

“Seas are starting to clear up,” Hans said as they re-entered the castle proper.

Anna looked down. Her slippers were completely caked in mud and the hem of her dress didn’t look much better. She wanted to make detours over each and every rug, perhaps kick up and leave prints on some of the tapestries, but even that would be a hollow act of defiance. Hans wasn’t the one who scrubbed and cleaned, who’d be forced to endure the extra work.

“Had a ship come in from Arendelle yesterday,” he continued. Anna stiffened, and he smiled. “Reserves are still low from that siege of yours.” As always, he avoided blame. “They’ve asked for grains and wheat from the Southern Kingdoms, which is to say, from me.”

Anna forced herself to keep her head straight, to keep one foot following the other.

“The question is: do I agree to their request?” His voice was light, like he was pondering over which color roses to plant in a garden instead of the fate of an entire kingdom. “We have more than enough stockpiled, and it’d be such an awful waste if people died when there was enough to go around.However…” Anna’s stomach dropped at the way he drawled the word. “They _are_ responsible for the deaths of more than a hundred of my men. They cost us time and resources and there does come a point where a good king can’t afford to be merciful to everyone. Examples, on occasion, have to be made.” His eyes flickered over to Anna. “What do you think?”

Her jaw tightened.

It was just a trick. Just another one of his plans to get her to cave and finally speak. He didn’t care what she’d say, wouldn’t listen to her despite asking for her advice. He’d probably wait for her to beg and then go ahead and starve her people anyway. It was all a lie. Every word that dripped from his mouth was a lie.

Hans baited her all the way to her room. Anna focused on keeping her breathing steady throughout, not gracing him with a single response, verbal or otherwise. It was only after he stepped back and the door clicked shut behind her that Anna took a shuddering gasp and sank to the floor.

The sheets had been untied and returned to her four poster bed, tucked in with a tight, mechanical precision. Her window was closed again. Pushing herself up, Anna tried its latch. It swung open effortlessly beneath her fingertips. The fact that Hans hadn’t bothered to lock it, told her just how much he viewed her as a possible threat: not at all.

Anna slammed the window shut and flopped down onto the silken bed of her prison. She crossed her arms and waited. She had no books. No yarn. No nothing. Of course, Hans had claimed it wasn’t a prison, that she was free to go anywhere in the castle or even Weideland itself provided he was at her side to “escort” her.

Fat chance of that.

Anna began counting the stitches in her bed’s canopy. Around stitch number three hundred and forty two, she felt herself nodding off. The shadows lengthened as she fell in and out of sleep, the colors leeching from her elegantly furnished room but otherwise sparse room. They’d muddled into a sort of slate grey when a maid arrived with dinner.

“Crust of bread and salted jerky again, huh?” Anna joked weakly from the bed. “My favorite.”

The maid glanced at her, eyes white and face drawn into a thin line, before putting it on her desk and leaving just as silently as she’d entered. Anna stared at the closed door, stared at the sharply divided portions of food. Next to it rested a single cup of water.

The message there was as plain as it’d been for the past week, as it’d been since Hans had first invited her to have dinner with him—play nice with her captor and she’d get rewarded. With food of all things. Like she was nothing more than a rabid, untamed dog.

And by taming her, he’d tame her kingdom.

Anna swallowed, her heart thudding with a dull ache as she thought of Arendelle, of Elsa and Kristoff and wherever the hell they could be in the world at that moment. She had to stay strong for them. Above all else, she had to believe that they were still free and working on finding some way to defeat Hans.

If they weren’t…

Anna pushed away her doubts, forced herself over to her desk, and tore into the crust of bread.

* * *

Her resolution to stay in her room for the entire length of her captivity lasted one more week. Anna was steadily going crazy; whenever she looked at the filigreed wall clock, she was a single step away from crying, from screaming… At any rate, she was definitely doing more damage to herself than to Hans. She’d thought herself prepared by virtue of growing up sequestered and alone in Arendelle’s palace. A small part of her had even welcomed the challenge, the chance to show Hans just who he was up against.

Turned out there was a difference between being trapped somewhere with enough toys and games to follow her to the afterlife and being trapped somewhere with _literally nothing_.

Go figure.

Anna waited her clock neared three in the morning before slipping out into the dark, empty hallway. Hans had offered her a tour of the castle when she’d first arrived. She had, obviously, declined it with a steely glare, which meant she was relying on four-year-old memories to find the castle’s library. Memories from when the Kingdom of Weideland hadn’t been anything more than a stepping stone in the bridge leading her towards the source of the summer blizzard. The bridge that had led her straight _to_ the source without her even realizing, being the stupid idiot that she’d been.

Still was.

Anna continuously glanced over her shoulder for signs of Hans as she made her way through the empty castle. If he’d been watching her last escape attempt, surely he’d be watching now. Somehow. From somewhere. She was going against his orders, again, but since he hadn’t dragged her down to the Weideland dungeons and/or killed her by now, Anna didn’t see _too_ much risk in it.

Worst case scenario, Hans stopped her from going to the library. Anna went back to her room just as bored as she’d been for the last two weeks.

More likely scenario, Hans showed up and followed her to the library, trying to push her into talking the entire time, and then followed her back. Anna would be okay with that. She’d have a stack of books at the end, which was all she cared about at the moment.

Eventually Anna found the large, double doors and pushed them open. Shafts of light fell across the library’s wooden floor, the full moon visible through a pair of fifteen foot windows on her left. It was better than the hallway she’d just come from in terms of being able to see instead of _feel_ her way across, but not enough to make out any of the book titles.

Anna was forced to grab a couple at random from each shelf and carry them to the windows for better light. She put back the boring ones and kept the novels and foreign histories, repeating the process several times until she had a stack as high as she could carry, and then scurried away to the relative safety her room. Using her foot, she pushed down and forward on her door latch and then kicked it shut behind her. She clutched her book tower close to her chest, heart racing.

Hans knew. He had to.

Anna braced herself, waiting for the inevitable knock. She waited for Hans to burst in, seize all the books, and cart them straight back to the library.

The clock ticked on, the only punctuation in the night’s stillness.

Because Hans never entered her room. He never knocked. Never did anything to try and force her to come out.

Even when he had followed her back from the stables, he’d stopped a good two feet from her door. He’d let her take the final steps by herself, locking herself back into her cage. Anna didn’t know whether to find her small sliver of sanctuary comforting or insulting. Most days it was a mixture of both. After all, it wasn’t that Hans _couldn’t_ enter her room, he was just choosing not to at the moment, and she didn’t let herself forget that those rules could change at any minute.

Anna shivered at the thought.

She switched her attention to her new collection of books. Grabbing the first one off the top, Anna shoved the others under her bed, unsure what the maids would do if they found them lying about in the open. She lit the small lamp on her bedside table and then leaned back, cracking open the first page of a battered old history on Walonian buccaneers.

* * *

The books lasted her a grand total of eight days. Anna forced herself to return to the beginning of the stack and start over and reread them all again. That carried her over another five. On the third pass, her eyes began glazing over entire lines, then entire pages.

She needed fresh material.

Anna didn’t bother bringing the old books back with her when she made her second venture to the library. If Hans got annoyed by her eventual stockpile, he was free to order one of the ever silent maids to take them.

The full moon had been swallowed up into the rest of the dark night sky since Anna’s last visit, making it even harder to pick out the titles. She squatted next to a shelf, squinting as she ran her fingers over the covers, hoping to feel out the edges of the letters. Weirdly enough, the technique worked. Was slow as hell though…

“You’re going to ruin your eyes like that.”

Anna stiffened.

She’d been expecting the voice. Dreading it. A small part of her was glad he’d finally shown himself—if he was going to be spying on her either way, Anna’d preferred knowing where he was standing when he did it.

Anna turned around and clutched the book she’d been trying to decipher to her chest like a shield. Hans rolled his eyes, the movement barely visible in the darkness but exaggerated by the excruciatingly familiar head tilt that accompanied it.

“Don’t be so worried. I’m not mad at you.”

Anna almost snapped that she wasn’t worried in the slightest, that she didn’t give a reindeer’s ass about _anything_ he thought, but managed to bite her lips closed. Keeping her mouth in a firm line, she went back to the bookshelf. Now that she was aware of his presence, it prickled at the back of her neck. Anna debated the pros and cons of scooping out the entire shelf closest to her and booking it. Sure, there’d be duds in the stack, but there’d _have_ to be good ones too.

Probably.

Maybe.

Anna continued her half blind search. She flinched when a sudden light flared into existence on her right, burning her eyes for a second before she blinked them into adjustment. She glanced over, expecting to see Hans hovering at her side with a freshly lit candle, and froze.

The flame he held hovered directly over his own, ungloved palm. She stared at it, then at him. He smiled back without a hint of teeth, mirroring her silence.

Anna breathed in and out. Just another one of his show-off tricks meant to unnerve her. She moved over to the next shelf.

He followed.

The light did, admittedly, make it easier to see. It frustrated her that it did, and for a good minute she crossed her eyes, letting the titles blur back into oblivion. Anna didn’t _want_ his help. She wanted to push him away, to punch him, to—

Anna swallowed with a painful shudder.

What were the words Elsa had always lived by—congeal don’t feel? Reseal? Something like that anyway. She needed to be ice. She needed to layer herself with barrier after barrier until she became more statue than human. Which shouldn’t have been too hard. After all, Anna’d been both ice _and_ a statue before; she just had to figure out how to do it again. Preferably a bit more metaphorically this time.

Somewhere along the fourth shelf, an idea popped into her head.

If Hans really insisted on trailing her every step, Anna would make it as painfully boring as she could. Her pace slowed. She crouched down, waiting for Hans to follow before standing back up, only to change her mind and crouch back down again. She wandered back and forth between new shelves and ones she’d already visited half a dozen times, not so much searching for new content anymore letting her feet trace a dance over the library floor.

Every so often, Anna made sure to pass the grandfather clock in the east corner of the room so she could get a quick glance at its face. The hour hand slowly crawled down its right side. Anna stifled a yawn, wondering if she’d be able to make it until dawn—

“Just so you know, the only one you’re wearing out is you,” Hans suddenly said beside her. “I don’t need to sleep anymore.”

Anna froze, one hand covering her mouth, the other gripped halfway around the spine of a book. Her eyes were wide. She shut them as heat flushedbehind her cheeks, tears threatening to leak past.

She wasn’t going to cry.

She wasn’t going to cry.

She wasn’t—

Anna pretended to finish her yawn and took the book from the shelf like nothing had changed. She looked at its title: Adventures in Bookkeeping for the Modern Farmstead. Great. She glanced over at Hans. He was gently smiling, as he had been the whole night, a mask that made his face entirely unreadable.

Shoving the accounting book right back where she’d found it, Anna moved on. She didn’t rush herself in her embarrassment, but didn’t draw out her task anymore either. It took her ten minutes to gather up a new book stack to last her another two weeks, perhaps a full month if she forced herself to read very, very slowly… or alternated her reading with counting fabric stitches again.

Hans stopped her at the library doors.

Anna’s heart jumped. She curled her free arm protectively around her wobbling tower of books in case he tried to grab at them.

Flame still alive and dancing in his left hand, he flourished a sudden book out from behind his back with his right. “You should read this one too,” he told her. “One of my favorites growing up.” He reached forward to place it on the top of her stack.

Anna snapped.

She smacked the book out of his hand, relishing the sting of her knuckles colliding against his own.

The book hit the floor with a thud. Hans looked down at it, blinking in apparent shock. Then he tilted his head back and laughed, the sound full and rich.

Anna’s cheeks burned, furious at herself for losing control, furious at _him_ for destroying everything she held dear in the first place.

“I take it that’s a ‘no thanks.’” He bent down and retrieved the book, his bare fingers long and pale against its dark green cover. “Maybe next time then.”

Hans pushed open the library doors for Anna and thankfully remained there, holding them, as she strode out into the hall. The sky outside the castle windows was beginning to purple. Lack of sleep tugged down at her eyes. Halfway up one of the staircases, Anna lost control of her book tower. She bit back a stream of curses as they went scattering down the steps. She waited for a couple, silent seconds, then hiked back the skirts of her dress and went to work collecting them before Hans popped up to offer anymore of his oh-so-gracious _help_.

Next time, he’d said.

Anna didn’t want there to be a next time. She hadn’t even wanted there to have been a _this_ time.

She finished reassembling her tower and carefully made her way forward again, eyes continuously glancing between books and carpeted step.

Books were good, but she could only carry so many at a time. They only lasted so long. She needed to start diversifying. And if Hans really wanted to play at being the gracious host, then she’d just have to use that graciousness and cram her room full of whatever it’d bring her until she never, never, _ever_ had to come out and see his stupid face again.


	27. Act Four: Part Two

“Back again so soon?”

Apparently Hans had a ridiculously liberal definition of ‘soon.’ For three full weeks, Anna had stretched her previous supply of books to their limit, and yet there he stood in the center of the library, hands clasped loosely behind his back like she’d only been gone a matter of hours.

This time, however, she’d come prepared. When Hans met her at a shelf, she pushed a scrap of paper into his hands. He frowned at it as she crouched down, running her fingers over the tops of each book she considered taking.

Hans snorted. “Really?” he said, holding up the paper. “You won’t talk to me, so you’ve resorted to _notes_? Rather petty, don’t you think?”

Anna bit her tongue against demanding who was the _real_ petty one—the one writing notes or the one who’d locked the other up in a giant prison castle?

Hans made tsk-tsking noises against the back of his teeth as he reread her written requests. “Paint, brushes, canvas, ink, quills, paper, scissors, yarn, needles, thread… Are you sure this is a list of stuff you actually want and not just a spy catalog of the town crafthouses?”

Anna kept her eyes on the books. Of course he mocked the note. She’d known giving it to him was a risk, known that he wouldn’t—

“Fine,” Hans said. “I’ll get you… well, everything but the scissors. Alright?”

Anna blinked at him. He wasn’t supposed to have agreed so easily.

There must’ve been a catch. There was always a catch.

But as she continued to stare at him, all he did was sigh. “What?” he said. “I’m not going to run and get them right _now_. Although, if you wanted to, perhaps, follow up my kind gesture with a polite ‘thank you,’ I’d be more than happy to hear that.”

Anna scowled.

Right. As if Hans really expected her to thank him for _anything_ during her stay here—her temporary stay, she hopefully reminded herself.

And so, Anna did her best to ignore him during the rest of her time in the library, eventually leaving with a new ten-book tower. The next morning, four tidy stacks had been placed against the wall outside her room with everything she’d asked for.

Minus the scissors.

* * *

Despite the possibility of hidden catches, Anna was glad she’d asked for the art supplies. They prolonged the lives of her books, stretching out the library runs she had to do even further. She stayed in her room for more than a month at a time without getting bored.

Well, not really.

Because that was the thing with boredom, the thing that Anna was quickly remembering from her secluded childhood. Boredom, in its natural chronic state, was like a bad stench—the smell itself never went away, the nose just stopped noticing it. The nose stopped noticing it because if the nose _kept_ noticing it, the brain would be driven mad. But at the same time, the nose wasn’t perfect. Every so often small, foul whiffs leaked through. Every so often the whole body inevitability, painfully remembered.

So Anna still got bored. She still wanted to, on occasion, punch her bedroom walls and trigger an earthquake and bring the whole castle down around her.

But she didn’t.

Because she couldn’t.

Instead, Anna made herself a calendar with one of the sheets of paper she’d been given. One month passed. Two months passed. An unhealthy amount of time was spent staring out her window, trying to pick out small people-sized blurs beyond the castle walls. At first Anna pretended the blurs were Elsa and Kristoff, only miles away, only _hours_ away from rescuing her. After awhile those fantasies ran dry and she stared at the blurs in the same way a cat tracked the glint of light from a mirror—an entertaining division but ultimately meaningless.

She tried two more escape attempts. Failed both.

The weeks grew slowly warmer. Flowers bloomed. Their sweet scents briefly called to her, only to die off beneath the rippling heat of summer.

Anna was twelve-hours into stitching a landscape of Arendelle from memory, lying against a wall of pillows with the wooden frame against her lap, when a faint flute melody caught her attention. She jabbed her needle the top-right corner of the linen and carried it with her to the window. The town was visible in the distance. Tents had been set up in the field adjacent the castle, making a ring. In its center people were dancing, feasting…

The summer solstice.

The realization hit Anna straight in the gut. She’d been here four months. Four months with nothing to show for it but a stupid embroidered, fake copy of home.

The canvas trembled in her grip.

Elsa would have escaped ages ago. Even if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have sat around stitching neatly away like the perfect captive princess Anna apparently was. Nothing but useless, useless, _useless_ —

Anna screamed in rage, hurling the embroidery at the wall. Its frame split apart with a large crack.

Not satisfying enough.

Anna swept her hands through the book piles on her desk, knocking them to the floor. She opened paint jars, flung their contents at the walls. She grabbed her sheets and ripped—

—tried to rip—

—tried a combination of biting and ripping—

Anna sunk to the floor, the undamaged sheet clutched in her shaking hands. She stayed there, listening to the sounds of the festivities bleed through her window as the sun slowly slipped down the western half of the sky.

Her door creaked open—the usual maid bringing dinner. Anna watched her as she took in the obvious destruction. Then the maid spun on her heel, slamming the door behind her.

The maid had forgotten to leave the food. Anna supposed that was fine, since she wouldn’t have eaten it anyway.

The sun continued to sink. Even after the world was plunged back into darkness, the celebrations went on and on. Probably would until morning, Anna suddenly realized. Summer solstice celebrations tended to do that.

She pushed herself up off the floor, leaving the sheet in its sad crumpled heap. She opened her door and trudged forward into the dark castle. She didn’t know where she was going, instead letting her feet decide the directions.

Left, left, right, down a flight of stairs, left…

At a pair of large double doors, she stopped.

The library.

Of course. It was the only place she knew how to get to in the castle, she thought glumly. Why would she have _ever_ expected her feet to take her any place else?

Hans was waiting inside as usual. But instead of starting the evening off with a cutting remark, he kept silent. Anna stayed at the library entrance, her paint-stained hands twisting together at the front of her dress as she watched him watch her.

He _had_ know about her breakdown. Anna couldn’t imagine the maid keeping it a secret. She debated running back to her broken room. A broken princess in a broken room with a broken—

She cracked.

“How long are you going to keep me like this?” Anna’s voice was small and hoarse from months of disuse.

Hans smiled. “Like what?” he asked bemusedly, as if those somehow hadn’t been the first words she’d said to him since Arendelle.

“In here. Trapped. With you.”

“You know you’re not trapped.” He remained motionless in the center of the room, as if expecting it to revolve around him if he just stayed there long enough. “You can go outside whenever you want to.”

Anna snorted. They both knew how untrue that was, even if Hans would never admit it. But she didn’t rise to the bait. Breaking her silence had been bad enough, she didn’t want to tarnish herself further with a battle over semantics.

“In fact,” Hans continued, “the summer festival—”

“Not interested.”

“Very well. The seaside gardens?”

“Also, not interested. And,” she added quickly as he re-opened his mouth, “not that next thing you were about to suggest either. Look, Ireally don’t want to talk about this.”

Hans crossed his arms, letting a small smile play over his face. “Fine. Then what _do_ you want to talk about?”

Nothing.

Everything.

Well, everything… just not with _him_. But Anna couldn’t say that because obviously _that_ wasn’t an option. Or was it?

“Why don’t any of the servants talk to me?” she asked bluntly.

Hans’ smile widened.

“Because if you had _them_ to talk to, you wouldn’t be here right now, talking to _me_.”

His words hit her like a bucket of fjord-cold water. Her hands trembled, curling up into fists.

Then she spun on her heels and stormed out of the library.

It was all her fault. She should’ve never opened her mouth, she should’ve never let a single sound escape past her lips. Her one remaining weapon… gone in a single finger snap.

Anna finally slowed at an intersection on the third floor. On her left was a long portrait gallery. Dead Weideland king after dead Weideland king lined its walls. They stared at each other, passing endless judgement upon themselves.

She shivered.

Breaking her vow of silence hadn’t gotten her anywhere today… but, then again, keeping it hadn’t gotten her anywhere either. She was wasting time sitting around for Elsa to rescue her. She was wasting time dreaming of the ten thousand escape methods she’d manage if only she’d had Elsa’s powers.

She was wasting time because Elsa was Elsa.

Anna was Anna.

Just Anna.

And that was okay.

Well, it would _have_ to be okay, because if Anna ever expected to rescue herself, she had to stop thinking like Elsa. She’d never manage to escape with physical strength alone. Of course, Anna wasn’t exactly sure she had the skill-set to escape via her mental stengths either…

But she had to try.

* * *

Anna waited until she’d scarfed down her next day’s lunch—the now usual bread, salted meat and single fruit, just enough variety to stave off malnutrition—to shovel up the pathetic embers of her remaining courage.

She left her room. Occasionally she asked a passing servant for directions. Although they still refused (were banned) from speaking to her, they silently pointed her down the hallways that she needed to go. Eventually she was deposited outside a plain looking door in the south wing of the castle.

Anna raised her fist, ready to knock, but her wrist froze on her, refusing to go through with the rest of the motion. She’d spent the whole morning preparing, but the way her stomach was twisting over itself seemed to suggest otherwise. Cursing herself, Anna gripped her wrist with her other hand and forced herself to knock. The wood swallowed the sound, leaving the air unsettlingly still.

“Come in,” Hans said from the other side.

Anna inhaled deeply and entered.

Hans didn’t seem surprised to see her coming to him for once. In fact, he didn’t even look up from the paper-covered desk in the center of what Anna realized had to be his office. It was expansive, twice as large as Elsa’s office back home and four times bigger than anything Anna ever had back during her working time in Corona, but it still had the illusion of being tight and cramped, probably thanks to the thirty-some packed bookshelves that smothered its walls. Anna’s eyes lingered across some of the larger titles: _Modern Methods in Taxation, New Revised Standard Edition_ ; _The Comprehensive Theory of Goods, Trade and Capital_ ; _Property Rights in the Age of_ —

“Can I help you with something?”

Anna jumped.

Right. Hans. He still hadn’t looked up from his desk or the documents on it. She needed to stick to her plan.

Anna swallowed. “You should send me back to Arendelle,” she said, the words jumbling against her tongue. “It’d be in your best interest.”

“Oh,” Hans said. He paused, quill tip hovering along a paragraph. “And why’s that?”

“I’m ready to be your mouthpiece.” The lie stuck a bit as she tried to cram it out. “I’m ready to tell the people of Arendelle about what a _great_ ruler you are.”

“Hmmm… and why this sudden change of heart?”

“Call it a sudden epiphany.”

“Right.”

“It’d solidify your claim,” Anna ventured. “Things can’t be steady there with both me and Elsa gone.”

“Really.” He glanced up briefly. “And you know the current state of Arendelle affairs… how?”

“I— uh… I feel them in my heart?”

Anna winced as soon as the words tumbled out. Could she have said _anything_ more idiotic?

Hans snorted. “Well, while I appreciate the attempt at entertainment, I’m actually somewhat busy at the minute. Perhaps you could tell me your joke routine another time.”

Anna stared at him. “You,” she said skeptically. “Busy.”

Hans pushed his chair back from his desk and gestured at the stacks of paperwork on his desk. An invitation.

Anna lingered by the door, trying to sniff out a possible trap, then stepped forward. As she got close enough to read the fine text printed across each document, she realized they were all pages after pages of trade information, trade policy, trade records. Anna shifted a few to the side; beneath were even _more_ papers filled with endless numerical tables of imports and exports and losses and gains. The sheer hours of math that must’ve gone into the records made Anna’s head hurt just looking at them.

She turned to Hans.

“Why are you working on these?” she asked blankly.

“I’m the king. Shouldn’t a king be involved in the ruling of his kingdoms.”

“Obviously, but you—” Anna stared at Hans. He stared back. She struggled to line up her thoughts in order. “You don’t _have_ to do this. I mean, no one _wants_ to do this.”

“You mean just because _you_ wouldn’t want to do it, no one else would.”

“No, that’s not what I—” This wasn’t what Anna had come here to talk about, but she couldn’t stop herself. She grabbed the nearest sheet and shoved it in his face. “You stole this kingdom, Hans. You stole all these kingdoms. People who steal kingdoms don’t care about the stressful day-to-day things. They hire minions! They let the crops rot in the field! They raise taxes! They— They…”

Hans lifted an eyebrow. “Do you _want_ me to hire minions and let the crops rot in the fields?”

“No! I mean, kind of? I mean…” Anna returned the paper to the desk, slumping against it, shoulders hunched. “I just don’t get it. If you actually care about doing things right, if you care about, well, just _things_ , then why are you so… so…”

“So…?”

“Evil,” Anna finished, the word wrenching out what little energy she’d had left.

Hans laced his fingers and stared at the papers on his desk. He stayed silent for a long time.

“Because the universe never gave me the chance to be anything else I suppose,” he finally said.

Anna let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, it's the universe's fault, is it?”

“No,” he remarked casually. “You’re putting words in my mouth again. I fully accept that all of my choices are my own. I embrace it. It’s more…” His eyes were dark and hooded. “Imagine a wall in life, stretching across the world. Some people are born sitting on top, the privileged few. My brother Philipp. Your sister Elsa. Others attempt to climb it. Sometimes they make it all the way up, but most of the time they tire out along the way. And then there’s the vast majority. While they often daydream by looking up, they mostly content themselves with wallowing in its shadows.”

“I take it you’re one of the successful climbers?”

“No.” Hans turned the full weight of his gaze on Anna. “I decided a long time ago that I’d be the one to destroy the wall completely.”

A chill dripped its way down her spine. She couldn’t move. And then Hans smiled again and the spell broke.

“Now,” he said, “if you’re interested in helping me run the kingdom, I’m always more than open to hearing your advice. If not, then I’m sorry, but I have fifty pages to review and send back to the financial minister by dinner.”

Anna felt herself nodding along before she could stop herself. She suddenly felt too awkward beneath her skin, too balanced on some razor’s edge she didn’t quite understand. She stumbled backwards from his desk, sending a few pages fluttering to the floor. She didn’t bother to pick them up.

She watched Hans as he moved his chair back against his desk, and then she turned and fled.


	28. Act Four: Part Three

The next time Anna broke her resolve and stole down to the library, Hans was there. Reading.

He idly glanced up from his chair but otherwise continued reading.

They pointedly ignored each other as Anna circled the room, gathering new books for her private bedroom collection. She’d given up her vow of silence ages ago, but she also had no intention of chatting if he wasn’t about to.

As she passed his chair, she paused. A gold and blue striped box of chocolates had been laid out on the small circular table beside him. Her mouth watered as her eyes raked over the frosted truffles, the iced caramels, the—

She stiffened. Hans was staring at her.

It was a trap. It had to be.

Anna cleared her throat, eyes stinging with prickle of tears as she forced her feet to continue their journey to the next bookshelf. It’d been forever since she’d last had anything beside plain bread and dried fruit and tough jerky. She swallowed her extra saliva; while her brain had forgotten the taste, her mouth obviously remembered.

She piled an adventure novel onto her book stack and scanned the shelves for another. Her eyes stopped on one particular title: _How to Make Friends and Destroy Your Enemies_.

Knowing his control freak attitude, Hans probably had a servant report all of Anna’s chosen titles back to him. He’d think _way_ too much about her choice in this one. Probably taunt her over it.

Let him.

Anna added it to the stack, then checked the height and weight of her misshapen tower. Just borderline carry-able. Time to go.

She made her way back across the library floor, her head pointedly pointed straight-forward, ignoring Hans, ignoring the chocolates.

The chocolates…

Her feet slowed despite herself. Her head turned.

Hans was nose-deep into his book again, seemingly oblivious to her suffering. As she watched, he gently lifted a chocolate from the box, dropped it into his mouth, and casually began to chew.

Damn.

She was salivating again.

Anna wrestled with herself. Finally she took a deep breath and marched over, book tower carried proudly in her arms. Hans glanced up as she approached. They stared at each other briefly, then—shifting her book tower carefully over to one arm—Anna grabbed the entire box of chocolates and placed it on top of the tower.

And then she left.

* * *

The next day, there was a knock at her door.

“Anna?” Hans’ voice gently called.

She stiffened from her position on her bed, fingers halfway through turning the next page of her _Kill Your Enemies_ book or whatever it was technically called.

“I was headed out to the town,” Hans said, “and was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

Another trap. Another trick.

Anna stayed silent.

Hans did too.

“Very well then,” he said. “Maybe another time.”

Anna listened to the soft tread of his footsteps as he walked away. Once she was confident—well, half-confident—he’d gone, she tried to return to her book, but the interruption had whipped her thoughts into chaotic frustration. Anna accidentally reread the same paragraph about identifying the enemy’s needs over and over and over again before she chucked the book away.

She flopped back, crossed her arms, and huffed angrily at her bed’s canopy.

Hans going out to town meant that Hans was no longer in the castle. And Hans not being in the castle meant that she could try to escape again. Or, at least, she could try to escape assuming his absence wasn’t part of the trap. Anna’s last escape attempt had been… April? Or March? It was nearly September now. Perhaps Hans had gotten bored with her lack of escape attempts and this was his way of trying to coax another one out of her.

Anna slammed a pillow into her face as she groaned in frustration.

Then again, if she tried to escape and it was a trap, what was the worst that could happen? Hans would catch her and he’d gloat about it and come nightfall she’d be back at square one. Big deal.

However, if it _wasn’t_ a trap and she sacrificed this opportunity to escape on account of her own overblown paranoia…

Anna stood up from her bed.

Trap or not, she had to at least try because when she finally _stopped_ trying, well, that was when Hans finally won.

Sneaking out into the hall, Anna tried to reconstruct her mental map of the castle. It’d too long since she’d used it for getting anywhere other than the library. Still, she managed to reach the servants quarters with only two wrong turns. She vaguely remembered a door in the eastern wing near the kitchens that led straight out of the castle.

The back of her neck prickled.

She’d made it to the kitchens and they were empty. The kitchens were never empty. In fact…

Anna whirled around. The hallways around her were empty. She hadn’t passed a single servant on her way here.

Quickening her pace into a run, she finally reached the door from her memory. She slammed against it, hands scrabbling for the handle.

It was padlocked.

Anna grabbed a spare pin from her hair and searched for the keyhole… but there wasn’t any. At least none that her mortal eyes could see.

Anna stepped back, pin clutched in a loose hand.

Of course.

And there was no one around to scream her frustrations at. No one she could try and convince to help her.

Anna backtracked her way to the main level of the castle. Fine. So this was just another one of Hans’ games. She’d just have to waltz straight out the front doors then. They’d be guarded, obviously, but she could deal with guards.

Kind of.

As she made the final turn into the entrance hall, her hopes fell. A tree-thick beam of wood barred the grand double doors. There weren’t any guards either.

Anna stared at it for a moment, deflated.

Still… she’d said this day was about trying things before giving up, hadn’t she?

Anna approached the double doors, swallowed a deep breath, then began pushing up on the beam with all her strength. She tossed her back against the door, pushing up with both shoulders, pushing up with her legs. She grunted as a joint popped somewhere in her upper back, but the beam remained immovable.

A deep voice cleared its throat, the sound echoing across the hall.

Anna froze.

A single guard stood beneath the entrance to one of the western corridors. He stared at Anna but didn’t do a single thing to stop her escape.

Because he didn’t need to.

The realization made her cheeks burn—she was a joke.

Anna kept trying for another five minutes before, well, she wasn’t giving up. She was just moving on to other options. It was _different_. She flashed the guard a rude gesture before leaving the entrance hall.

She wandered the corridors, telling herself that she was expanding her mental map for future escape plans. Maybe her knowledge would be useful if Elsa ever invaded one day and needed to know the castle’s layout. Or perhaps there were freedom fighters, rebelling against Hans’ empire. Because there had to freedom fighters somewhere, even if they were just a rag tag group hiding out somewhere in the southern mountains. Yes, perhaps they’d invade if Elsa didn’t and Anna could be their inside woman, helping them as they—

Anna laughed to herself.

She was pathetic and useless at it was. She didn’t need to add “delusional” to the list.

At the entrance to a long portrait corridor, Anna paused. She’d been here before, weeks ago. Or had it been months? She looked back at the way she’d come. Somewhere along the way, she must have taken some kind of wrong turn…

Anna sighed.

It didn’t matter _that_ much in the end, she supposed. She’d always been terrible at directions.

She walked slowly down the corridor, examining painting after painting. The faces of each king stayed roughly the same as she progressed, in the way that families did, but the way they were painted slowly evolved, morphing from detached, stylistic flatness to intensely realistic stares.

She stopped near the end.

King Henri of Weideland. The one king she recognized. The one king who’d once welcomed her into his home—this home. The one king she’d seen die, his murderous son-in-law pulling invisible strings from hundreds of miles away.

Next to his portrait—and the last portrait hung in the corridor—was a smaller portrait of a young blonde woman in a deep blue evening dress.

Princess Josephine.

Her portrait had been hung before she’d been officially crowned. It made sense. She was the kingdom’s only princess, recognized by everyone who’d ever known her as their future queen. It’d been her fate, her destiny to hang in this hall with the rest of her ancestors.

Anna stared down the corridor. One thousand years of unbroken lineage stared back.

This wasn’t her castle and it wasn’t Hans. They were outsiders, invading an ancient, ancestral home, stealing it from the dead.

Guilt clutched at her ribs, squeezed around her lungs.

She wasn’t doing enough to stop this, she _couldn’t_ do enough to stop this, she should’ve been back home in Arendelle, she should be—

Anna covered her mouth as a broken gasp sobbed its way out. Bracing herself against the wall, she slid down to the floor. She didn’t cry, she didn’t scream, she just breathed—in and out and in and out—as she stared at the lemony-beige wallpaper on the other side of the corridor.

She didn’t know for how long.

“Anna?”

Apparently long enough. She ignored Hans’ pant legs as they came into view; they were blurs of white as she kept her focus on the wallpaper.

“If this is part of your latest escape attempt,” Hans said with a smug chuckle, “I have to admit, you’ve got me stumped.”

“What are you doing?” Anna asked blankly.

“What?”

Her head snapped up. She met his eyes. They were open and curious as he stared back down at her.

“Me,” Anna said. “What are you trying to gain with me?” When he didn’t immediately answer, she let out a noise of disgust. “You hate me! You think I’m— I’m stupid, and naive, and a waste of time! When my heart was frozen, you left me on the floor to _freeze_ to death! You gloated about it! You tried to kill Elsa—twice! And, you know, I’m fine with all that, well _not_ fine, but, I mean, it makes sense because you’re evil and that’s what evil people do!”

Anna groaned, burying her face in her knees.

“But then you also saved my life. From the wolves, that is. And I _know_ that part was because you needed me alive to get to the stone—” Her heart lurched at the memory of that particular betrayal. “The tree,” she corrected. “But you could’ve killed me afterwards. You didn’t need me anymore. And when you invaded Arendelle, you could’ve let me bleed to death from my leg, but you healed it instead. I don’t get it. You should want me dead like I want you d—”

Anna caught herself at the last second. It was one thing to wish him dead in her mind; it was another to outright say it. She exhaled a shaky breath and pressed herself further into her knees.

“Why am I here, Hans?” Anna finally whispered. Then, even softer, the words wrenching themselves from her lips, “Why did you offer me that apple?”

Silence greeted her.

Anna clutched her hands tighter around her legs. She waited for his answer. Any answer. A scoff, a laugh, a sneer, a dismissal… _anything_. When she couldn’t bear the choking tension any longer, she looked up.

Hans was gone.

She’d been speaking to the air.

* * *

The sun slowly began to dip faster and faster. The days cooled and Anna picked up her knitting again.

Perhaps if she made a scarf long enough, she could choke Hans with it. Of course, she’d have to weave in some sort of special ingredient to get around the whole immortality thing. Something rare and magical like silver horse hairs collected under moonlight, or wool from a golden ram living on a remote island in the Southern Sea, or thorny spindlebush that’d been crushed into thread and soaked with blood.

The possibilities were unrealistic but fantastically endless.

Autumn came and went. One night, the clouds dumped a fresh layer of snow across the kingdom. Leaning out her window, the world was endless white as far as she could see.

Snow meant her birthday would be coming up soon. Anna thought of spending it alone in her tower—or worse, with Hans—and something inside her cracked. She left her room and, after a brief search of the castle, found Hans in his study.

“I want to go home,” Anna said. Her voice was hollow; she couldn’t scrounge up any sort of emotion to put in it.

“Everyone wants something,” Hans replied, not bothering to pause in his work. As always, his desk was covered in neat, orderly stacks of paper—documents to review, documents to sign, documents to veto. “What makes yours any different?”

“You can’t just keep me here.”

“You’re my hostage.” Hans let his fountain pen hover his current document a second before signing the bottom with a quick flourish. “I can do whatever I want.”

Anna tried to feel her usual frustration. “That’s not what you said before.”

“Before?”

“Back in Arendelle.” The memories drifted back to her. “You said I’d be your esteemed guest.”

“Did I now?” Hans set the signed document aside and pulled forward a new one. “Well. Things change.”

And just like that he went back to his work, eyes glued to endless lines of tiny, black script. The documents were perfectly written, each and every letter the exact same size and each and every row at the exact same angle. They were organized into perfect stacks, straight cubes of paper with perfectly smooth edges. Reviewed by a perfect man with not a single ink stain on his perfect fingers, not a single hair out of place on her perfect head, not a single weakness nor shred of human decency, just a flawless unfeeling mask of untouched ice and deadness and—

Anna threw the nearest stack of paper off his desk.

“Anna, what are you—?!”

She grabbed the document he’d been reading and ripped it in half, grabbed the ink well and poured it over the others. Her hands reached out, grasping, scavenging, destroying everything they could.

Mid-blink, Anna felt her arms yanked bank, a rushing sting of cold. The soft warm browns of Hans’ study had vanished, replaced by the steel greys and blues of ancient stone.

The dungeons.

She tried to move her arms. Frigid iron bit into her wrists, keeping her locked against the wall.

Hans had transported her to the dungeons. He’d gotten mad and transported her to the dungeons. He had the _power_ to transport her dungeons…

She blinked up, but couldn’t see any sort of ceiling through the blackness. A single wooden door was the only non-stone feature in existence.

Alright, Hans had sent her down here, yes, but surely he wouldn’t _leave_ her down here. She’d been in his castle for almost a year. She’d lived in her tower bedroom this whole time. It was _her_ bedroom. Things wouldn’t change— _couldn’t_ change—this quickly.

Could they?

Anna narrowed her hands and tried to jam them down through the shackles. She hissed as it scraped her skin. Breathing through her teeth against the pain, she glared back up at the ceiling.

“You think you can get away with this?!” Anna screamed. “Do whatever you _want_ to me because you and I both know my sister is still out there and when she’s through with you, you'll wish you never laid _eyes_ on Arendelle!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat of a dark and depressing chapter, I know, but there's good news! I'll be going back to two week updates for the rest of Act Four. Yay.


	29. Act Four: Part Four

Anna spent only ten minutes in the castle dungeons before she was transported back to her bedroom, but that was enough to remind her of her true place. Of Hans’ true nature.

As she laid on her bed, sinking into its soft pillows, she touched her wrists, remembering the cold bite of iron around them.

Silk or iron, she was still a prisoner here.

She had to remember that.

When her usual dinner of cold vegetables, bread, and water came, Anna ate it silently. She went to bed, woke up, waited for breakfast, and ate again. Then she pulled a chair next to her window and began to read.

She didn’t go out. She _refused_ to go out.

She was a prisoner and this was her cell, and it was time both she and Hans faced that reality.

* * *

As she fingered through her miniature book collection the next week, Anna noticed some of the titles missing. She took a slow breath. Fine. If that was the way Hans wanted to play…

She carried on like she didn’t notice.

The next day two more books were gone—a condensed history of the New World and mystery novel involving deaths at a monastery that she’d _just_ been about to start. Her knitting disappeared the morning after that, followed by her sketchpad a week later, then her half-finished embroidery of Arendelle as seen from the fjord. Anger bubbled up through her, then she breathed out and let it dissipate. While the embroidery been her one “picture” of home, she’d been stitching from memory. It still lived there in her head and that was something Hans _couldn’t_ take from her.

By the end of the month, her room was as bare as it had been the first week she’d arrived.

It only strengthened her resolve to stay cooped up. Anna stuck by the window, staring out and counting trees. She stuck to her bed, staring up at its canopy and counting crimson stitches.

She slept a lot. Hans had told her once that he didn’t need sleep. He didn’t need much of anything. Which was silly because everyone needed _something_ …

He needed to _break_ her, a nasty voice whispered. That’s what all of this was—a waiting game. Hans needed her to come groveling to him. It was the only way he had to beat Elsa. He expected her to be the weak link in her sister’s unshatterable chain.

Anna had to prove him wrong.

With no calendar, writing, or other sharp implements, she bit tiny notches in her blankets to keep track of the days. The servants changed them every two weeks. And so Anna kept count—two weeks and one day… four weeks and two days…

She made up stories in her mind. Sometimes she let her left hand be the hero and fight against her villainous right hand. Sometimes her left hand won. Sometimes it lost.

And then, in what Anna could best calculate as early January, her waiting finally paid off.

* * *

Someone knocked at her door.

Anna sat up in bed. None of the servants ever knocked. They just swept silently in and then swept silently back out. She stayed in bed, examining her blankets—six notches. Nearly halfway through her now biweekly cycle. Nothing special. Outside, the darkening winter sky marked the time as early afternoon.

“Anna?” Hans’ voice called out softly from the other side of her door.

She didn’t respond.

“You have a visitor,” Hans continued. “In the front hall.” There was another pause. “And you don’t have to worry. I won’t be there.”

Anna waited for him to continue, to offer more of an explanation than that, but nothing came. She waited a good five minutes before realizing he’d probably left.

It was a trap.

It was always a trap with Hans. He was trying to break her vow of solitude just like he’d broken her vow of silence.

But… visitor?

Who would he have dragged here as a visitor—?

Anna’s stomach dropped.

Elsa.

What if Hans had finally found Elsa and had her chained up in the front hall? Kristoff could be there too, all beaten and bloody and—

Anna threw off her blankets, muscles wincing at the sudden movement. Her bare feet yelped at the cold of the hardwood floor. Shekicked on a pair of slippers, threw on a loose dress over her wrinkled sleepwear, and allowed herself two yanked brushes through her bird’s nest hair before flinging herself out into the hall.

She raced through the castle, feet remembering the way to the front hall even as her mind preoccupied itself with gruesome imaginings. What if she was too late and they were already dead? What if they weren’t because Hans was waiting to kill them in front of a live audience? What if—?

Anna froze at the top of the stairs of the front hall.

Down below, in the center of the hall, a young woman in a purple dress waited with her hands clutched nervously in front of her. She was flanked by two Weideland soldiers. A thin circlet rested on top of her short brown hair.

“Rapunzel?” Anna said in disbelief.

The woman looked up. Her eyes widened. “Anna?”

Anna took faltering steps down the stairs. Rapunzel approached slowly as well. They met at the foot of the staircase.

“Is it really you?” Rapunzel asked, slowly lifting a hand.

“I— I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“You…” Rapunzel’s hand ghosted the side of Anna’s face before dropping back down. “Your hair looks awful.”

Anna snorted in laughter, rubbing her palm against her forehead. “I know. I didn’t think—” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “This isn’t a trick, isn’t it?”

Rapunzel shook her head, and then suddenly grabbed Anna into a fierce hug. Anna grabbed back, letting her cousin bury her face into the side of her neck, burying her own face against Rapunzel’s shoulders, feeling the warmth of another living person as her fingers pressed tighter and tighter against her cousin’s back. She couldn’t remember the last person she’d touched. Had it been Elsa? Or was it Kristoff? There’d been so much panic the day Arendelle fell; all her memories had merged into one terrible blob.

Rapunzel pulled back. “They’re listening,” she muttered with a nasty, tear-filled glare at the soldiers. “They’re probably going to report straight back to _him_.”

Anna didn’t need to ask who ‘him’ was.

“Let them,” Anna said.

Rapunzel stared at her in confusion. “But—?”

“If he wants to hear detailed reports about how we talked about the latest hair styles and painting and god knows what else for the next two hours, then let him.”

Rapunzel frowned. “Anna, we can’t only talk about _those_ things.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?!” Rapunzel echoed. “Anna, no one’s seen or heard from you in nearly a year. We all thought you were _dead_. Even your—” She stopped herself, face going white.

Anna studied her cousin’s face, completing her cut-off sentence.

_Your sister._

Rapunzel knew where Elsa was.

“Follow me,” Anna said, taking Rapunzel’s hand. “I know a place we can talk.”

Anna led her cousin through the castle and up to her bedroom. She wrinkled her nose as she realized the state of the mess she’d made. If Anna had known the truth about her visitor, she would’ve taken the time to clean up a bit first—opened the window, folded her bed, picked up yesterday’s laundry from the floor…

“What is this?” Rapunzel asked.

“My bedroom,” Anna said. “We’re safe here.”

“Safe?”

“Hans doesn’t…” Anna paused, suddenly realizing how stupid she was about to sound. “He doesn’t come in here.”

“Right.”

Rapunzel didn’t look very impressed. Not that there was anything to be impressed with. Without her books and craft supplies, the room was lushly furnished but barren.

“So,” Anna said coughing. “Umm…what’s been new with you?” She winced at how forced the question came out.

“Oh, you know,” Rapunzel said, moving to the window. She traced a finger over the metalwork. “Kingdom got hit with a plague, then a drought, then got taken over. We hid the magic stone, thinking he’d come for it. Months later we find out it’s been swapped with a regular stone and months after _that_ we find out it never was magic to begin with.”

“You found out? How did you—?” Anna halted as Rapunzel looked back with a knowing gaze. _Elsa_. Anna coughed again. “Never mind.”

“And you? What’s been new with you?” Rapunzel asked, echoing her own awkward question straight back at her.

“Umm…” _I’ve been embroiled in psychological warfare with a immortal madman for the last two months._ “Not much.”

Rapunzel winced as she looked around Anna’s bedroom again. “I can see that.”

“You said… people thought I was dead?”

“Well,” Rapunzel said cautiously. “Yes. I mean, there wasn’t any word from you. Or really any word from anyone except, you know, Hans. He _told_ everyone you were still alive but… That’s why I decided to come when I got his invitation.”

“Invitation?”

“Yeah, he sent a letter just after Christmas. Eugene didn’t want me to go, but I just _had_ to know whether or not you were still…” She trailed off, awkwardly.

“Living?”

Rapunzel nodded.

“And has Hans been…?”

Rapunzel’s face twisted in confusion. “Has Hans been what?

“Has he conquered any other kingdoms since Arendelle?”

“You don’t know?”

Anna shook her head. Her lungs constricted at the thought of Hans cutting a swath across the rest of the continent while she sat in her room ignorant and helpless.

“Arendelle was the last one,” Rapunzel said. “All of us keep wondering, _waiting_ , where he’s going to go next, but he hasn’t yet. I think that’s part of his game.”

Anna nodded, air rushing back into her body with a tingling mixture of confusion and relief. “He likes to play them,” she said blankly.

Arendelle had been his last kingdom? What did that mean? Did it mean anything? Was it because he hated Elsa? Did he really hate Elsa _that_ much?

“You should try and get him to let you visit Corona,” Rapunzel said.

Anna jerked out of her thoughts.

“What?”

Rapunzel shrugged. She stepped over to Anna’s discarded dress from the previous day, picked it up, and began to fold it. “If he let me visit you here, it shouldn’t be impossible for you to visit me there.”

“That’s never going to happen,” Anna said, crossing her arms. “Not unless he escorts me.”

Rapunzel frowned, folded dress draped over her hands. “Then have him escort you.”

“No!” Anna snapped. She flinched, shocking herself at her unintentional volume. Softer she added, “That’s what he _wants_ me to do! I’d be playing straight into his hands.”

“If you want to go somewhere that he doesn’t, I don’t see how that’s playing into his—”

“I said, _‘no,’_ Rapunzel. End of story. And— and give me that!” Anna grabbed her dress from Rapunzel’s hands and stomped over to the hamper.

“Fine, fine…” Rapunzel sighed. “But just remember, I’m the one that has experience being locked up with an evil guardian! And when you get a shot at freedom, you take it. Escorted or not.”

Anna laughed bitterly. She tossed her dress into the hamper and turned back towards her cousin. “Yeah, but you didn’t _know_ your mother was evil when you were still locked up with her. And when you _did_ finally figure that out, what happened? Let’s see, you immediately got your future husband stabbed, your hair cut, and your mother pushed out of the tower to her death, of course, not that I wouldn’t _mind_ that death part right about now—”

Rapunzel stared at her, close-lipped and wide-eyed. Her hands clutched each other, knuckles turning white.

Anna winced. “I— I didn’t mean it like that.”

Rapunzel shook her head. “It’s alright. I shouldn’t have assumed that…” She took a breath. “But you need to find a way to get to Corona, okay?”

“Of course, and you know I’d love to, but—”

“You _need_ to,” Rapunzel corrected firmly.

Anna paused. “I need to?”

Rapunzel nodded.

“You mean…?”

_Elsa._

It had to be. Elsa was in Corona.

There was a knock at the door. Both princesses jumped. One Anna’s dinner maids entered, but she wasn’t carrying a plate. The woman cleared her throat, hands fidgeting and eyes staring at some place on the wall to Anna’s left.

“Dinner will be in the east dining hall whenever the two of you are ready,” the woman said.

Anna blinked.

The woman kept talking about… something; Anna was too shocked to process the words. There was something wrong about it, beyond the simple fact that her silent servants were no longer silent. Anna realized she’d been imagining voices for them all this time; the maid’s real voice was too high and breathy for the voice Anna had already paired with her face.

“—and his majesty regrets to inform you that he’s be preoccupied with other matters this evening and won’t be able to attend.”

“What?” Anna said.

The maid repeated the words but it didn’t make anymore sense than it had the first time. A full dinner for the first time in a year? Rapunzel as her dining companion? Hans as… _not_ her dining companion? Was this somehow his version of surrendering? Had she actually won the sit-in-her-room-and-do-nothing war?

“Is there something wrong?” Rapunzel asked, eyes wide with concern.

“Oh, umm… no,” Anna said quickly. “It’s nothing.”

It had to be.


	30. Act Four: Part Five

Rapunzel stayed in Weideland a full week before she was politely pressed to leave. Not that she put up much resistance.

“If I don’t get back, Eugene and Maximus will launch a crusade for me,” she joked to Anna. “You _will_ try to come to Corona, won’t you?”

Then she disappeared into a carriage and Anna was alone again.

Her chest ached at the dull hole her cousin left.

Maybe _that_ had been Hans’ ultimate plan—weaken Anna’s resolve by tempting her with things she couldn’t have. But even that wasn’t entirely true, now was it? As Rapunzel had pointed out, Anna was the one keeping herself tethered to the castle.

If she wanted to get out, all she needed to do was ask.

Granted, the idea of asking Hans for anything more serious than yarn or pens screeched against every fiber of her being. Asking him was also her only option assuming she wanted to visit Corona before the end of the next century. She’d been playing the moral high ground for a full year with the occasional slip up, and look how far that had gotten her. Perhaps it was time to take the full plunge.

Despite her new resolve—or maybe because of it—Anna shut herself back in her room. Passing the time was far easier than it’d been before Rapunzel; she’d re-stocked her book shelves during her cousin’s visit, and Hans hadn’t ordered any of the servants to take them away.

Yet.

On the morning of the third day, she felt strong enough to creep out to the library. She had more than enough books stocked up to last until spring, but that was the point—if she went before Hans expected her to, it’d lessen the chances of him being there. After all, running a kingdom took serious work and, god or not, Hans’ attention had to be split _some_ of the time.

A tingling relief spread through her when she opened the doors onto an empty library.

And again when he wasn’t there the next day.

Or the next.

Anna gathered her books slower this time, watchful for any sudden movements. One day had felt like a victory. Two days had felt like abnormal luck. Three days…

Hans _had_ to know about her excursions by now. He’d never stayed away from tormenting her this long. It was what the man, the monster, lived for.

Anna turned towards the next shelf and froze, something bright and colorful catching her eye. All her old knitting projects lay piled together on one of the reading chairs. On the very top rested her embroidery of Arendelle.

She whirled around. Hans had to be here somewhere…

…but he wasn’t.

Anna placed the small bookstack she’d been gathering on the nearest shelf and slowly approached the craft pile. She gently ran a hand over it, the yarn soft and squashy. She moved to the embroidered canvas. Her fingers traced first the neat, raised stitches in the front—the places where castle met sea met forest met mountain, and then the tangled mess in the back.

They were her stitches.

It was her work.

Anna marveled at the whole pile a moment longer, giddy relief rushing through her—she’d thought Hans had thrown her whole collection away—before the feeling faded beneath shaky confusion.

She shouldn’t be feeling happy. She should be outraged because her things weren't ever Hans’ to take in the first place, outraged because Anna just wanted to know what the man was _playing_ at.

It’d been easy understanding Hans and the way his head worked back when they’d met over five… no, over _six_ years— oh God, had it really been that long? Point was, Hans had been easy to understand. He’d charmed her because he’d wanted Arendelle’s throne. Then, two years after that, he’d charmed her—well, _kind_ of charmed her—because he’d needed her to reach the golden apples.

But now?

Hans already _had_ his power. He _had_ his throne. He didn’t get anything from trying to charm her now. And if returning her crafts was part of some master plan to take down Elsa, Anna wasn’t seeing the connection.

Leaving the book collection for another day, Anna bundled up her crafts and carted them back to her room. She laid them out on the floor, sat back on the balls of her feet, and spent the next hour silently reacquainting herself with every single loose stitch and every shoddily weaved end as the sun slowly set beneath the snow-covered forest.

While Anna still had no idea what was going on in Hans’ brain, between Rapunzel’s invitation and the return of her crafts, it was clear he was open to talk. Time to revisit her failed resolve.

Nighttime meant Hans would be working in his study. Anna strode purposefully through the corridors, not bothering to knock when she arrived at his door.

“Anna,” Hans said, head jerking up from his usual desk of paperwork.

“Hans.”

He capped a fountain pen and folded his hands in his lap. “What a surprise. Anything I can help you with?”

Nothing.

Everything.

Anna stepped forward, eyes scanning his desk. It looked perfect and untouched again. Of course, he’d had more than two months to reorganize and replace the documents. As she craned her head over one particular trade agreement, it vanished.

Anna jumped back. Calming her breath, she lifted an eyebrow. “Gone and put _it_ in the dungeon too?”

A mixture of emotions flickered rapidly over Hans’ face before settling into vague indifference. “Still hung up on that?” he said with a roll of his eyes. “It was months ago. Move on.”

White-hot rage snapped through her, and she inhaled sharply, a stream of curses at the ready. She bit her tongue against them.

_Just close your eyes and think of Corona._

Anna crossed her arms. “Fine. Let’s have dinner.”

Hans stared at her. “Excuse me, what?”

“You heard me. You want me to move on. I’m moving on. To dinner.” She swallowed nervously. “You in or out?”

Hans narrowed his eyes.

“What do you want?” he finally asked.

“What do _you_ want?”

“I asked you firs—” Hans groaned. He briefly dropped his face into his hands before looking back up. “Fine. Whatever.” He pushed his chair back and gestured at the door.

Right.

Anna went first, hyper conscious of the way Hans followed closely behind. She kept her hands hugged tight around her in case he tried to offer his arm. They didn’t speak all the way to the dining room, and they didn’t interact either, except for when Hans stepped forward to pull out Anna’s chair for her.

The dining room was just as cavernous as it’d been when she’d taken her meals here with Rapunzel. Its long walls echoed her stiff breathing. Waiters stood by the doors that lead to the kitchens, silent watchmen. The long dining table meant for twenty seemed to swallow her when there were only two. Anna had a brief hope that Hans would take a seat on the far end—and a brief fear: she was here for a purpose and having to shout everything would defeat that purpose—before he took the seat directly to her left.

“So…” Hans asked as the waiters filled their glasses. “Do you want anything in particular? Or leave it to the chef?”

“Umm, chef’s choice is fine.”

They lapsed back into awkward silence.

Anna wanted to ask Hans about going to Corona, but she needed a way to ease into the question. If she asked him outright, he’d find some reason to reject her request for sure. In other words: she had to play politics.

Anna was terrible at politics.

“So…” Hans began again. Anna looked up from where she’d started twirling her knife against the table cloth. “Never mind.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing.”

Anna blinked at him and then went back to twirling. She slowly realized she’d been expecting him to take charge of the conversation like he always did. And because of that, she hadn’t prepared any sort of conversation topics or anything. Not that should’ve need conversation topics. _Normal_ people didn’t need—

“How are your crafts coming along?” Hans asked.

She paused with her finger pressed against the knife’s top. “You mean the crafts you stole?”

Hans didn’t respond.

They were saved by the arrival of the first course—fresh baked crusts of bread layered with sliced rabbit and diced apple and dripping with white cheese. Anna’s mouth was watering before the servants finished setting the plates down. Her stomach still hadn’t fully readjusted to rich food. The first two nights of dinner with Rapunzel had ended in terrible stomachaches… although that could’ve also been from her eating two plates past the point of stuffed.

She dug in with her fork, the first bite halfway to her mouth—

“I gave them back,” Hans muttered.

Anna halted.

Perhaps agreeing to dinner had been a mistake. She hadn’t expected to get into petulant “nu-uh, yeah-huh” arguments with him, and didn’t _want_ to get into petulant “nu-uh, yeah-huh” arguments with him, so she pretended she didn’t hear. She chewed her first bite, closing her eyes as she reveled in the mixture of sweet and tart and savory.

When she’d swallowed, she looked down at her plate. There were at least ten more bites of food there. And after that there was the main course, and—if she was terribly unlucky—dessert.

Until then, she was trapped. Trapped with an unbearably talkative man who’d chosen today of all days to go silent.

A small whine escaped her throat.

God help her.

* * *

After a week of painfully awkward dinners, Anna decided she’d had enough of trying to “ease into it.” Even when they talked, there were only so many variations on “you’re an evil kidnapper” followed by “well yes, but—” that the two of them could re-enact. She had to ask him directly about visiting Rapunzel, regardless of answer.

Of course, like everything in her life, that was easier said then… well, _said_.

Anna procrastinated with her pudding, pushing huge globs around the edges of the bowl with her spoon. Out of the corner of eye, Hans ate his with the occasional light clink of metal striking porcelain. The immaculate picture of civility. Anna scooped up another spoonful, stared at it, and then let it drip back into the bowl.

“What’s wrong?” Hans asked. “Lost your taste for chocolate?”

Anna stared at the brown mess for a little while longer, then looked up and said matter-of-factly, “I want to go to Corona.”

“And?”

“You said I could go anywhere as long as you accompanied me.”

Hans blinked at her. “I said anywhere in Weideland.”

Anna’s stomach plummeted. “Oh.” She looked away, her cheeks burning in humiliation. So much for a week’s worth of wasted dinners… no. She wouldn’t let them be wasted. She forced herself to look back at Hans. “Can I go anyway?”

“What part of only Weideland—?” Hans gave an exasperated sigh. “Is this what these dinners have been for? Some sort of pre-bribery? And why do you want to go to Corona anyway?”

Anna squirmed. She wanted to run out of her seat, wanted to run back to her room—

“To see Rapunzel. Obviously.”

“You just saw her.”

Anna shrugged. “I want to see her again.”

“Well, my answer is ‘no.’”

“Because I’m your prisoner?”

Hans slunk back in his chair, his shoulders drooping. “What do you want me to say?”

She paused and then shrugged again. “‘Sure, Anna. Let’s go to Corona.’”

Hans let out a stifled groan and went back to eating. After it became obvious he was ignoring, Anna did the same.

So much for the direct approach.

Anna pressed her spoon against the bottom of the dish, gently flexing the metal. Anna wondered if it had enough sproing in it to lob a spoonful of chocolate pudding at Hans’ face.

“Of course, I suppose we _could_ go…” Hans started. “That is, as long as you helped me with something else first.”

Anna paused, looking at him suspiciously.

Something else.

Of course.

“The former crown prince of Wallonia and his wife are holding first birthday celebrations for their daughter next week. Accompany me there and afterwards we can stay a couple days in Corona.”

Anna’s head carriage-wrecked to a halt.

“What.”

Hans set his spoon down in his now empty bowl and dabbed at his face with his napkin. “They’re holding a gala. I’ve been invited. Come as my companion, play along for the day—and night—and we’ll head off to Corona in the morning.”

Anna stared at him. “Play along?”

Hans shrugged. “Hand over the birthday gifts, smile at all the right people, dance a few dances… the usual.”

Anna’s face twisted in disgust. “Never!” She shoved her chair back and stood. “You honestly think you’ll get me to play your games, smile and simper and worship you like everyone else?!”

Hans leaned back in his chair, his white gloved hands cradled loosely together in his lap. “Call it what you will,” he said. “You wanted to go to Corona? Those are my terms.”

Anna stared at him slack-jawed, her mouth twitching with a thousand insults. A couple spilled out in a garbled, consonant-heavy mess.

And then she stormed away.

Reaching her bedroom, she slammed the door shut behind her. Her eyes scanned her room, searching for something she could punch, something she could throw, something that could break the dam on all the frustration and rage bubbling through her, and then she curled up her fists and let out a long scream instead.

It helped.

A little.

Focusing on breathing, Anna made her way to her window and the Arendelle embroidery she’d left on the chair next to it. She’d added some more shading to the town roofs this morning. As she picked it up and stared at it, her picture of home stared back.

Tranquil.

Unchanging.

Ignorant to her plight.

If Anna went along with Hans’ offer, she’d be giving him exactly what he wanted. She’d be legitimizing his reign in front of hundreds of people. Exactly what she’d sworn never to do.

But if she _didn’t_ , she might not ever see Arendelle again.

Anna lowered her embroidery and stared out the window at the thin line where the top of the barren forest met the cold, grey sky. She bit her lip as her mind spun with the same question over and over and over again:

W _hat would Rapunzel do?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, with this we're onto what I'm officially naming the Wallonia-Corona mini arc. And because I'm so excited about it, I'm turning the rest of May into weekly updates. Hope you guys enjoy!


	31. Act Four: Part Six

Anna fought to keep her heartbeat steady as she looked out the carriage window at the occasionally jolting landscape. The fields were empty, ground still frozen and unworkable despite the winter’s latest snow melt two days ago.

“What are you thinking about?” Hans asked.

Anna’s head snapped back forward. Hans was sitting opposite her, documents scattered across his lap and the seat, a workaholic to the end. Anna wondered why he hadn’t just teleported himself to Wallonia and saved himself the six hour trip. Then again, she still didn’t know the distance limits on that specific power. Maybe he couldn’t.

She sighed as he continued to stare at her.

“Like you care,” Anna said.

“I might.”

Anna huffed and went back to looking out the window. “It’s none of your business.”

“You _do_ understand the terms of our agreement, don’t you?” Hans asked. “If you act like this when we get there, the deal’s off.”

Anna glanced at him and forced a mocking smile.

Hans sighed in exhaustion.

Thirty minutes later, they arrived at Wallonia’s capital. The ex-royal couple were waiting for them as their carriage pulled into the castle’s main courtyard. Hans helped Anna out, then strode forward to greet them. Anna hung back. She vaguely listened to their conversation,words muffled like she was hearing them from beneath a foot of water. She lifted her head and stared up at the towering spires of the castle, and then past them at a patch of blue sky that had broken through the dark clouds.

“Princess Anna?” a female voice said.

Anna jolted back to attention.

The ex-princess readjusted the bundled-up infant in her arms. “Both of us are delighted to have you.”

Hans made a small sidewards nod.

Right.

Time to perform.

She half-jogged, half-skittered to Hans’ side. “Thank you,” she said, clasping her gloved hands politely in front of her. “We’re both happy to be here.”

“Are you now?” Ex-Prince Frederick said flatly, lifting an eyebrow as he looked between Hans and Anna.

Oh God.

He knew she was faking it.

She’d been so worried about the rest of the world suddenly thinking she was a major Hans supporter, that she hadn’t stopped to think about what would happen if they didn’t. What if no one believed anything she said? Would Hans hold that against her?

She glanced at Hans to gauge his reaction. A muscle twitched along the line of his jaw. She knew that twitch. It liked to appear right before one of his nasty, sarcastic insults.

Anna lightly hit his gloved fist with her own, redirecting his annoyance at Prince Frederick to her.

The princess cleared her throat. “You must be tired from the journey,” she said with the same manufactured cheer in her voice that Anna recognized in her own. “Should I show you to your rooms? Let you rest before the main celebrations tonight?”

Hans tore his eyes from Anna. “Yes. That’d be great.”

Anna tried to smile beneath the pinning stare she was still getting from Prince Frederick.

It was going to be a long trip.

* * *

The main celebrations were torture. It felt like half a kingdom had been crowded into the same ballroom, circles and circles of people all talking and dancing and spinning and staring at her. Anna couldn’t count the number of eyes she felt trailing her back. She wanted to scrub them off, run somewhere dark and quiet—

No.

She’d spent the last _year_ in darkness and quiet. It was natural that it’d feel weird, leaving Weideland castle for the first time in nearly a year, that she’d feel too exposed, especially when she had to worry about keeping up her current mask.

She just needed to stay out here and get used to the crowd and the noise and the—

The life.

Anna tipped her head back and downed the rest of her wine.

The old duke that Hans had been talking with broke off into chuckles. “Quite the fiery one, isn’t she? I like seeing a girl who appreciates her spirits.”

“Quite,” Hans said with slightly narrowed eyes.

As they continued talking, Anna peered around room for the nearest roaming waiter. She signaled one down and started to exchange her empty glass for a full one.

Hans’ gloved hand came down on top of it.

“Perhaps we should pace these out a bit?” He flashed her a disarming smile.

Anna glared back. “Easy for you to say. You’ve been the one doing all the talking. I’ve been standing around in silence like some stupid porcelain doll.”

“Then talk.”

“And say what?” Anna batted her eyes and began chatting up an imaginary stranger. “Oh, what a lovely evening this is. I have _such_ a charming companion and I’m ever so grateful that he’s let me out to see the sun for a day.”

“Anna…”

“I know, I know. It’s just…” She let out a groan. “I’m _trying_ to lie but everyone’s seeing straight through me!”

She stared at him, trying to make him understand that she was giving it her best—given the circumstances—but she was only met by his steady frowned.

Then he nodded across the room at the dessert table. “How about I get you something? That is, if you want anything.”

Anna sighed. She wanted to refuse, but… the five-tiered tiered chocolate birthday cake _had_ been screaming her name for most the evening. She reluctantly told Hans as much.

“One of the pieces with the berry toppings?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Thanks to the dinners they’d been sharing, he was starting to know more of her likes and dislikes.

She didn’t like it.

Hans nodded, and then lifted her gloved hand and brushed a kiss against it before leaving. It was a quick gesture, so quick that Anna surely had to be imagining the whispered feeling it left behind.

She wiped her hand against the side of her dress as she watched Hans move through the crowd. Halfway to the dessert table, he was flanked by two older duchesses. His face instantly broke into charming mode and he somehow kept his stride, pulling them along with invisible strings as he continued towards his original destination.

Anna envied him for that skill.

When she started conversations, she lost all track of whatever she’d been doing. Performing one act on the surface while chugging away at a completely different one underneath… it was completely beyond her. And the crazy thing was that there was nothing god-like or magical about it. It was pure human.

Pure Hans.

Anna stopped the next waiter as he passed and grabbed a new glass of wine.

“Anna?” a male voice said incredulously.

Anna turned.

Two red-haired men were standing behind her, staring at her like some ghost who’d just stepped out of a haunted mirror.

Anna stared back. “You’re…”

“Leon,” said the younger, long-nosed man. “And this is Otto. We’re—”

“Hans’ brothers,” Anna finished for him. “Yes, I remember. It’s been… How long has it been?”

“The summer games. Which was…” Leon turned to Otto.“Three years ago?”

“Three and a half,” Otto said. He took a deep slug of his own glass of wine. “Before the start of all this… _mess_.”

Mess.

That was a word for it.

Anna cleared her throat. “So, umm, what are you guys doing here?”

Leon burst out into laughter, its raucous echo drawing looks from the surrounding nobility.

Otto’s nose scrunched in distaste. “We were ordered.”

“Ordered?” Leon managed through his lingering mirth. “What are you talking about? We were _cordially invited_.”

“I don’t—” Anna began apprehensively.

She halted.

Realization hit her and she turned, scanning the ballroom for flashes of red hair. Four of Hans’ brother were standing in a mixed huddle, alternating casual chatter with suspicious glances and liberal sips of wine. Two of the older ones, the ones she remembering detesting more than Hans himself, lurked in a corner like ginger gargoyles. And then, by the dessert table was Hans himself, talking with another brother—the eldest of the lot, judging by his greying hair.

And the crown on top his head.

In spite of all his other destruction, Hans had never officially conquered the Southern Isles. Oh, he’d conquered every single surrounding kingdom, cutting the islands off from trade until they’d been forced to accept whatever scraps he tossed at them, but he’d never snatched away their crown like he had Wallonia’s or Arendelle’s or Corona’s or Ostenburg’s or— well, half a dozen others.

Anna was sure Hans had some twisted reason for it.

She just wasn’t ever in the mood to psychoanalyze what that reason might be.

“So what’s our oh-so-benevolent-and-majestic brother been up to recently?” Leon asked. “Any new kingdoms marked on his ‘To Conquer’ calendar?”

“Why should I know?”

“Why? You’ve spent the last _year_ with him. How can you not?”

“Now, Leon…” Otto said. “Just because she’s been his captive, doesn’t mean—”

Leon snorted. “Doesn’t look very captive to me.”

Anna blinked at him, torn on how to respond. Yelling out that she was still _very much_ a captive, thank you, would be just as demeaning as it would counter-productive, given her whole ‘Get to Corona’ goal. On the other hand, agreeing with Leon would be like stumbling off a mountain cliff of lies. Nowhere to go but down.

“You want to know Hans’ plans?” she said. “How about I drag him over here and you can ask him yourself?”

“Oh no,” Otto said. “You don’t have to—”

But Anna was already moving towards the dessert table where Hans was still conversing stiffly with his oldest brother. Her hand gripped the stem of her wine glass so hard she was slightly irritated it didn’t crack.

“—and really, ordering us all out here?” she heard King Philipp of the Southern Isles said as she approached. “You do realize once you have to _order_ someone to do something, you’ve just proven how little power you actually have.”

“That’s not the way I see it,” Hans bit out.

Philipp’s lips twisted as he took in the sight of Hans’ crown. “For someone who rules a dozen kingdoms… nothing’s changed. You’re just as pathetic and insecure as you were when you ruled none.”

The muscle in Hans’ neck twitched.

Drama.

She had to avert the drama.

“Hans!” Anna said brightly, stepping gently between the two of them. “I was just looking for you and—”

“Stay out of this girl,” Philipp said. When she didn’t move, he shook his head sadly. “Is there no limit to your depravity, Hans? Simply conquering wasn’t enough for you. No, you had to go kidnap one of your mortal enemies and take her as a bed companion.”

Anna flushed.

“Bed companion?” she stammered. “I’m not—!”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s twisted your head into thinking it’s love. He’s good at that. How many sweet nothings did he have to whisper in your ear until you decided it was easier to give in?”

“That’s not—”

“Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he forced himself on you and your fragile mind had to recreate its own memories to cope. Either way, he then goes and parades you around here like a common dog—”

Anna swung her free hand forward, slapping Philipp square across the cheek.

Her palm stung with the impact.

“How _dare_ you,” Anna spat, her body trembling with rage. Philipp stared back at her, clutching his face in a mix of shock and anger. “Hans might be one lowest bits of scum that’s ever walked this earth, but he hasn’t—” She took a shaky breath. “He’s never so much as laid a _finger_ on me which is more than I can say about some of your other brothers and if I _ever_ hear you talking about me like that again, I swear I’ll—!”

Philipp was staring at her in silence.

Other people were staring at her in silence.

Oh hell.

She’d just yelled out her rant for the entire ballroom to hear. Already the thick quiet was giving way to a trickling stream of whispers. Women exchanged dark glances behind lacy fans.

Anna turned towards Hans. His face was completely blank. He didn’t seem to be looking at Anna. He didn’t seem to be looking at anything.

And then he turned and left, exiting the ballroom through the nearest door.

With him gone, all eyes locked back onto Anna.

She shakily held their various stares—Leon and Otto looked horrifiedly distant while, thirty feet over, the Wallonia prince and princess’ faceswere pinched with worry—and then she chugged back the rest of her wine.

* * *

Anna managed to stumble back to her room sometime shortly past midnight. She slumped down on the trunk at the foot of her bed, feet and head both aching with exhaustion. To her right was the locked door that connected her bedroom suite with Hans’. She didn’t know whether the palace staff had originally given them separate rooms or if — based on what everyone apparently thought of her — Hans’d had to specifically ask for them, and right now she didn’t _want_ to know.

She groaned, burying her face in her hands.

Why couldn’t she have just kept quiet? So what if everyone thought she was sleeping with him? It’s not like her outburst had changed any of their scandal-hungry minds. She’d probably just added fuel to the fire.

And now…

Anna shoved herself off the trunk and changed into her sleeping gown. Her hands shook as they viciously attacked the silk ties.

There was no way she was going to Corona now. Even with a liberal stretch of definitions, she couldn’t think of way that matched “smile and play nicely” with “yell out dirty laundry for everyone to hear.”

Once her gown was changed, Anna sat down at her vanity and began deconstructing her hair braids. She paused as she stared at herself in the mirror. She wasn’t _gaunt_ , exactly—it wasn’t like she’d been starving herself in Weideland—but there was an emptiness in her face that made her shiver. She ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing it out over her shoulders.

She should’ve never agreed to come here.

Something crashed in Hans’ room.

Anna whirled around, staring at the door that separated them.

“Hans?” she called out.

There was no response.

She crept to the door and laid her ear against it. Hans was talking, mumbling something, but he spoke too softly to understand. She looked back at her bed. Even with a steady fire burning in the grate, the January night had a chilled bite and her covers called to her, warm and inviting.

She looked back at the door.

And its lock.

With a deep breath, Anna undid the bolt and pulled it open. Hans’ side of the door was already unlocked. She poked her head through into his room. Its layout and furniture were a mirror copies of her own.

“Hans?” she called again.

Hans turned towards her from where he’d been pacing in front of his bed. His jacket and gloves were off, thrown haphazardly across the back of a couch, and his waist coat hung half-unbuttoned from his chest. He still wore his crown, but it was tilted, nearly falling off. In his hand he held a long bottle of wine. He stared at Anna with darkened eyes… and then staggered, catching the side of the bed for support.

He was drunk.

“Anna, how good of you to join me,” he said, flinging his arms sideways in welcome. The wine sloshed with it. “I’m honored that you decided it’s worth your time, conversing with the lowest bit of scum that’s ever walked the earth.”

“I didn’t mean it like—” Anna started automatically before realizing, no, she meant it _exactly_ like that. She nervously crossed her arms instead. “What are you doing, Hans?”

Hans shrugged. “Drowning my sorrows. Care to join me?”

“Uh… that’s—”

“Of course, even if you agreed, it’d only be because I’d twisted your poor, fragile mind. Since that’s apparently the only way I can ever get _anything_.” He braced himself against the bed frame and took a deep slug straight from the bottle.

Anna swallowed. “You shouldn’t listen to them.”

“Why not? They’re right. Twelve kingdoms—” He paused as he tried to count, holding up numbers on his fingers until he seemed to realize he didn’t have enough fingers. “One per brother and it still doesn’t mean anything.” He glared at the floor. “Philipp was right. I’m just as pathetic as I was the day I laid eyes on your miserable town.”

Anna bit back her instinctive protest at his insult. Her throat was dry. This was quickly veering into some strange, confusing territory that she had no prepared map or supplies for. She glanced back at relative safety of her own room. She could run now, slam and lock the door behind her, pretend these last two minutes hadn’t ever happened…

Or she could stay.

An entire year spent in his castle and Hans had never _once_ let a single emotion slip. Well, no emotion beyond the occasional mild annoyance. Meanwhile, this was… well, she didn’t know what _this_ was, other than the possible break in his godlike armor that she’d been waiting for.

As she continued to stare, Hans loosened his grip on the bed and slid to the floor. She watched him pathetically cradle his wine bottle for a moment and then she crouched down next to him.

“I think you should give that to me.”

He glared at her petulantly. “No.”

“Hans…” she warned, reaching for the bottle.

He twisted away from her grasp and stumbled to his feet. Anna followed him with an exasperated sigh around the couch. As they reached the fireplace, he abruptly spun back to face her.

“I never wanted any of this,” he blurted out. Anna blinked back. “I mean, alright. Yes, I wanted it, but not like this. Not really. You think I _liked_ summoning a blizzard that killed hundreds of people? Terrible atrocity, I know. But then you start thinking, oh, thousands of peasants die a year from winter storms and famine, what are a couple more?”

Anna exhaled in disbelief. “ _A couple more_?”

“And guess how many people have died in my kingdoms from snow and hunger since I got power? Thirty-seven. That’s thirty-seven over _three years_. But do people ask about that? No! It’s all, Hans schemed this. Hans schemed that. Hans isn’t a proper king because he wasn’t born in the right order!”

He flung the wine bottle across the room.

Anna jumped as it shattered against the wall.

The movement seemed to gather his attention back to her. He stepped forward, a dark gleam in his eye. Anna retreated back, but he snaked a bare hand around the back of her neck before she could escape. His fingers pressed warm against her skin.

“Hans?” Anna squeaked.

She was pushed down against the couch and suddenly Hans was on top her, his weight pressing down against her chest and his breath hot against her ear.

“Maybe I should just be the monster they all think I am,” he whispered.

Panic spiked through her as she realized the full situation she’d gotten herself into. She was in Hans’ bedroom. Alone. With nothing but her sleeping gown and soon not even that because his hand was now trailing against her thigh, pushing the fabric up and up—

“Hans!” Anna reached down, covering his hand with both of hers, stopping him. “This isn’t you!”

“How do you know who I am?” he murmured against her skin “When even I don’t?” His lips moved down, brushing against her neck.

Anna’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation.

This was wrong. It was—

Anna shoved against Hans’ chest with all her strength, sending him tumbling back against the far side of the couch. She scrambled back up into a sitting position and tried to readjust the collar of her sleeping gown with shaking hands. They stared at each other, their breath coming in shallow pants.

And then Hans groaned. His head buried itself in his hands, and his crown fell, hitting the floor with a dull clang. His back and shoulders started to shudder rhythmically.

Anna realized with a sudden start that he was crying.

Oh God.

Hans wasn’t supposed to cry.

She reached forward halfway, hesitated, and then closed the gap. Hans flinched as her fingers lightly touched his back, but he didn’t draw away.

“I don’t need your pity,” he growled.

Anna took a deep breath. “I know,” she said. “You don’t have it.”

Hans turned towards her, his eyes damp and reddened. He held her gaze for a moment and then sunk sideways towards her. Anna had a split-second to jump off the couch, to let him smack against the bare cushions instead, and then the split-second was gone and his head wassomehow resting in her lap.

Anna focused on taking silent, continuous breaths.

“I’m a better ruler than all of them,” Hans muttered. She could feel the rumble of his voice as he talked, the curve of his cheek as it moved against the thin fabric of her gown. “Philipp? He only ever cared about the treasury. And Prince Frederick? He never even _wanted_ to be king. I did him a favor, taking his crown away.”

Anna’s hand hovered over his red hair, an inch of space between them.

She hated him. Hated him with every single screaming fiber of her being, and him being drunk and pathetic and utterly broken right nowdidn’t change any of that, but—

It wasn’t exactly pity. And it wasn’t exactly kindness.

She didn’t know what it was that made her hand drop and start to move in gentle, repeating strokes.

Hans let out a shuddering sigh. “I did more for their people than they ever would’ve.”

“Shhh,” Anna whispered as she ran her fingers through his hair. “I know. I know…”

“Just because I was willing to get my hands dirty… Just because they care more about their pride than their own kingdoms…” He continued mumbling things, words slurring softer and softer until they’d finally faded away entirely.

He’d fallen sleep.

Anna remained on the couch, painfully awake, her hand still buried in his hair. His crown lay upside-down on the floor next to her feet. The fireplace crackled in the stillness. Beneath it, her heart hammered itself against her rib cage.

She stared blankly ahead, waiting for it to slow. Waited for her head to piece together the past ten minutes.

And then kept staring.

And kept staring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. [That was your guys' chapter for the week](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=79DijItQXMM).


	32. Act Four: Part Seven

Anna woke up the next morning with a groan, blinking blearily as she sat up. A blanket fell from her shoulders and pooled around her hips. It took a second for her to realize she was on a couch and not in bed. Her brain tried to shuffle through her memories—

It all rushed back.

Anna’s head snapped around, searching for any sign of Hans, but she was alone in the room. She must’ve fallen asleep after… well, _after_.

She shivered. Had last night even happened? Was it real? Hans had tampered with her memories of the golden tree. Perhaps he’d done it again. But if so, why?

Her skin goose-pimpled, hairs raising beneath her thin sleeping gown. The fire was out, and even if she couldn’t physically see her breath, she could sure imagine it.

Anna stiffly pushed herself off the couch and padded back to her room, wincing with each cold step. Everything was just as she left it. Brittle sunlight strained through the windows, marking the hour as just past dawn. There weren’t any servants around to help her draw a bath and Anna didn’t want to wait for them. Besides, she’d taken one yesterday just before the gala; she was still clean enough to make it through the day.

She threw her sleeping gown to the floor and pulled on a periwinkle blue day dress. She spent ten full minutes at the mirror, trying to weave her hair into something worthy of a princess, but her hands didn’t seem to be listening to her. They kept dropping strand after strand, and after her fourth failed coiled braid attempt, she defaulted to her usual pleated pigtails.

Ready for the day—physically ready, anyway—Anna sat down on the trunk at the foot of her bed. Everything she’d packed had somehow sprawled itself out across the floor. She knew she should probably start cleaning up… but she didn’t want to clean up. Cleaning up meant leaving Wallonia that much sooner. Meant admitting that she’d utterly destroyed her chances of ever visiting Corona.

Plus, the servants would clean up for her anyway.

Eventually.

As Anna stared at her discarded sleeping gown, her stomach growled.

Breakfast it was then.

She pushed her way off her trunk and made her way out into the hall. As she neared the morning dining room, the sounds of clinking and clattering tableware began to echo closer and closer, Anna paused. She didn’t want to eat with the guests from last night. They’d ask too many questions about herself.

Too many questions about Hans…

Instead, she grabbed a passing servant. After some polite pleading and twice-repeated directions, Anna found herself surrounded by the sweaty, steamy hustle and bustle of the main kitchen. One of the assistant cooks loaded her up with a plate of jammed sweet rolls and scrambled eggs. Now all she had to do was find a quiet place to eat.

She wandered the castle, poking her head into various rooms—too big and open, too dark, no windows, already occupied…

As she rounded a corner, she froze.

“Hans,” she said.

He looked immaculate. Her eyes immediately dropped to his hands. They were gloved again. And not holding a bottle of wine. She looked back at his face; it was blank.

They stood in the hallway, neither one of them moving.

Hans took a step forward, shoulders drawing parallel with hers. His head turned.

“Tell anyone about last night and you’re dead,” he whispered.

His face calm as his eyes scanned hers. Anna found herself nodding mutely. Despite the stickiness of her throat, she didn’t _feel_ frightened. Or maybe she was so frightened that she didn’t even know she was frightened anymore.

Hans nodded at her plate. “Hurry that up. I want us to be packed and gone in an hour.”

He continued walking.

“Back to Weideland?” Anna blurted out.

He turned, looking confused. “No. Corona. Like we agreed.”

A seed of hope cracked open in her chest, but remained buried deep beneath existing layers of suspicion and doubt. “Corona? But, I—”

“Unless you _want_ to go back to Weideland.”

“No!” Anna shouted, so quickly and firmly that he flinched. “I mean, I just thought with what happened last night, you wouldn’t—”

“Last night didn’t happen.”

“Right! Right…”

Both of them continued to stare at each other, awkwardly.

Because despite his commandment, last night _had_ happened. He’d fallen asleep, warm and vulnerable in her lap… Which was silly and stupid because gods were the opposite of vulnerable. The whole situation had to have been another one of his traps. A trap to make her pity him.

But Hans seemed too embarrassed by the experience—it’d _been_ too embarrassing—for it to be ones of his traps.

He finally turned and left again. This time for good.

Anna remained in the hall, watching the direction he’d left. Then she sunk to the floor, settled her back against the wall, and started eating her breakfast right then and there.

* * *

Outside the carriage windows, the tiered city of Corona rose like a brick and mortar birthday cake. The sun hung low above its bordering sea, casting the sky in purple. Rapunzel’s favorite color.

Anna couldn’t believe it was real. That she was here. She pinched the back of her hand, but the landscape refused to fade. She wasn’t dreaming. She wanted someone else to pinch her to make sure, but the only other person in the carriage was Hans and he hadn’t talked to her for the entire trip, instead burying himself back in his paperwork. Anna hadn’t complained.

When they finally pulled to a stop outside the castle, no one was there to greet them. Anna frowned out the window in confusion, then turned towards Hans.

“You’re the one who wanted to visit,” he said without looking up. His first words since Wallonia. “So visit.”

She turned hesitantly back to the carriage door, then stepped out into the courtyard by herself. Guards lined the steps up to the main doors. Anna spun in a slow circle, taking in Corona’s familiar arches and walls and forests in the far distance as she pulled her winter coat closer to herself, breath fogging in the cold air.

“Anna?” Rapunzel’s voice suddenly echoed. “Anna!”

Anna looked up.

Rapunzel was rushing down the castle steps in a short-sleeved dress. She hadn’t bothering throwing a coat on. Or shoes for that matter. As she reached Anna, she tackled her into a hug.

“We _just_ got the messenger bird from Wallonia saying you were coming.” She drew back. “Is it really you?”

Anna was still breathless with disbelief. “Yes, yes—” Rapunzel’s hands flew up, pressing themselves flat against Anna’s face, feeling over her nose, her cheeks. “Hey!” Anna said, pushing them away. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry. I mean, I’m not sorry. Eugene chewed me out, said I should’ve checked way back in Weideland but I was so excited that I forgot and—”

“Checked for what?”

Rapunzel looked past her at the carriage. “Hans came here with you?”

“Yeah, that was part of the deal. And checked for what?”

“You have to be starving after such a long trip,” Rapunzel said, as if they were having two completely different conversations. “Come on, we were just finishing up dinner. We’ll have the cook bring you another plate, then we’ll all have dessert together.”

Despite her disastrous confusion, Anna let her cousin drag her up the stairs and into the castle.

“That’s a lovely dress,” Rapunzel said, craning her head to stare at it.

“Thank you?”

“No embroidered jewels or anything like that?”

“Uh… no. I like them a bit plainer.”

“And Hans? Has he tried to give you anything fancy?”

“Hans…?” Anna shut her eyes against an oncoming headache. “Rapunzel, what are you _talking_ about?”

“Later,” she whispered as they reached the doors to the dining hall. She yanked one open and called out, “Hey, everyone! Anna’s here!”

Like a scene straight out of a painting, Eugene and Rapunzel’s parents were sitting at the table, half-finished food on their plates. Anna placed it on top the hundred other identical paintings she had stored in her memory. It was like she’d traveled back in time, like she’d never even left.

“Anna…” Eugene started. He turned to Rapunzel. “Are you sure she’s—”

“It’s Anna.”

Just like that, Aunt Primrose broke. She shoved herself out of her chair with her husband closely behind. They enveloped Anna into a tight, group hug.

“Oh, Anna,” she said. “We’ve been so _worried._ ”

Anna stood awkwardly. She’d been hugged by Rapunzel’s parents before, but never like this. Their arms crushed around with an intensity she hadn’t felt since… since her _own_ parents had left Arendelle for the last time. That’d been over ten years ago now.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

Aunt Primrose jerked back and rubbed a worried finger beneath Anna’s eyes. “I can’t imagine the horrors that man has put you through,” she whispered. “I swear he won’t have you back. We can smuggle you away. We can—”

Anna gently pushed herself out of their grip as she began to feel the same skin-stripping sensation from their worried, piercing gazes that she had at the gala in Wallonia.

“He hasn’t put me through any horrors,” Anna said. At least not the kind her aunt was thinking of. “In fact, I… I followed your advice, Rapunzel. You were right. All I had to do to come here was ask.” She managed a weak smile for them.

“Wait…” Eugene said slowly through the resulting silence. He turned to Rapunzel. “But didn’t you tell me—?”

Rapunzel hushed him. “Later, Eugene.”

Anna shifted her weight to her opposite foot and nodded at the dinner table. “Is that roast duck?”

The question was enough to switch the topic of conversation off of her, even if it failed to break the tension completely. Anna managed to get her extended family talking about the weather, and then about the unusually calm winter storms that’d been a boon to the local fishermen. The now constant twist in her gut started to straighten itself out by the time the servants switched out their dinner plates for dessert.

And then dessert ended and the twist returned.

“So…” Anna said as she and Rapunzel started to stand. “About my bedroom…”

Rapunzel blinked at her. “What about it? You have your room.”

Anna blinked back. “My room as in the room I had when I used to live here?”

“Yeah. What other room is there?”

Anna laughed a little breathlessly. “Right. Right, of course…”

Of _course_ Rapunzel wouldn’t put her in the same room as Hans. Or even next to the same room as Hans.

Rapunzel and Eugene shared a frown. As everyone left the dining room, the young couple hugged goodbye to their parents and slowly walked with Anna down the hall.

“So…” Eugene said as Rapunzel gave him a look.

“So?” Anna repeated.

“So we got the messenger bird from Wallonia about the you coming here thing,” he said. “We also got some other stuff.”

Anna stopped. “What other stuff?”

Rapunzel coughed. “Nothing that’s— I mean, we’re not taking it seriously. That is, not until you confirm it.”

“What other stuff?” Anna asked sharper.

“You know, stuff.” Eugene buried his hands into his pockets. “Chewing out Hans in the middle of the entire party for being an evil, soulless monster kind of stuff.”

Anna swallowed. “Oh.”

“Oh? That’s it? Oh?”

“Cut it out, Eugene,” Rapunzel said with a light smack. “Look at Anna’s face. Obviously, they were lying.”

Anna twisted her fingers together. “Actually…”

Rapunzel frowned in frustrated confusion. Her eyes suddenly widened.

Eugene’s jaw dropped.

“No way,” he said. “You actually said those things and Hans just took it?”

Anna flinched. All at once she was back in the bedroom, trying to grab his wine bottle away, trying to push _him_ away as he muttered continuous drunk nonsense.

Her face flushed. “Well, not exactly? It got kind of… complicated.”

“What kind of complicated?”

“Just… complicated.”

Eugene and Rapunzel shared another look.

“Anna…” Rapunzel said, hands reaching out.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it,” Anna said, stepping away from her grasp. “I don’t… I don’t know what happened exactly, okay? He— It was nothing. He told me to forget it even happened.”

Which was the exact wrong thing to say. Anna groaned as their faces fell in deeper worry.

“I’m fine,” she pleaded. “Really. Can I—? Can I just go to my room now? Alone? It was long trip and I’m tired.”

Anna did her best to ignore the hurt from Rapunzel and Eugene’s lingering stares as they reluctantly gave up their interrogations for the night.

* * *

Anna blinked her eyes open onto the strange, summer green of a canopy hanging overhead. She stared at it, slowly readjusting her brain as she woke up in an unfamiliar room— _her old bedroom was unfamiliar now?_ —for the second time in two mornings. And then she groaned, rolling over and shoving a pillow over her head.

She’d managed to duck away from Rapunzel’s Hans-related questions last night, but her cousin would undoubtedly pick up where she’d left off the second Anna sat down for breakfast.

Anna didn’t blame her. Not really.

Hans was the enemy and Anna had information on that enemy. Or so her family all thought.

But Anna didn’t want to answer questions about Hans. She didn’t want to answer questions about her time in Weideland because the more she thought about her time in Weideland, the more she realized just how pathetically little she’d done over the past year.

Anna wasn’t a hero. She hadn’t come here as a fountain of secret, strategic knowledge. She’d come here because she’d wanted to escape, even if that escape was only a temporary one. Well, that and because Rapunzel had implied that Elsa was—

Anna sat upright in bed.

Elsa.

Rapunzel had implied that Elsa was here. Or somewhere near here. Or just… something. Anna had to figure out what Rapunzel knew, had to find a place where Hans wouldn’t be listening. She cast a glance at the ceiling. She had no idea where his bedroom or, more importantly, he _himself_ was at the moment. Maybe he already suspected something. Maybe that’s why he’d let Anna come here even after the Wallonian… disaster.

Ugh, it was impossible to stay that paranoid for everything.

She couldn’t keep thinking about things. She had to act. She had to—

Anna jumped out of bed. She wanted to skip the bath the servants had already drawn, but a quick sniff convinced her to do a quick hop-in, hop-out scrub. She paused when she opened her old wardrobe. Racks of familiar dresses stared back at her. She’d left her collection—when she’d last returned to Arendelle, she was only supposed to have been gone a couple months.

How many years had passed instead?

Chest tight, Anna brought a couple dress over to the mirror and held them in front of herself, a picture of a girl from another time. It took longer than she was proud of to decide on one for the day and she found herself jogging to the dining hall to try and make up for the wasted time.

Rapunzel nearly ran into her in the corridor outside.

“There you are,” she said, with a relieved smile. “I was just about to grab you. Come on!”

“Wait, Rapunzel. I wanted to talk to you about—”

“Not now. Food first. We don’t have much time.”

“Time? Time for what?”

But Rapunzel just grabbed her arm and dragged her wordlessly into the dining room. Eugene was the only one at the table. Pascal napped on his head. Two extra food-laden plates had been placed next to him.

Rapunzel pushed Anna into a seat. “So, Eugene and I were just talking about the expansion and remodel that the Snuggly Duckling is considering. The Innkeeper wants to add a whole extra wing to the ground floor, but Vladimir and Hook Hand have been trying to persuade him on the benefits of going vertical.”

Anna stared at her cousin. “What are you…?”

Eugene sighed. “Just eat,” he said, pushing her plate closer towards her. “It’s important. We’ll take care of the rest.” He turned back to Rapunzel. “And yeah, vertical would make sense in the long run assuming they took in double their profit to expense ratio, but they don’t and—”

Anna began to eat hesitantly. Apparently she wasn’t going fast enough because every so often Eugene and Rapunzel stole a sausage or a bite of egg from her plate with quick whispered apologies.

It was official. Her cousin and cousin-in-law had gone insane.

“Look. You can’t expect them to deck out the entire place in oak,” Eugene continued. “The raw lumber would take up the whole budget.”

“Yeah, but we’ve seen the brawls they have. If they go with pine, the whole place is going to splinter to pieces by the end of the first month.”

A mix of voices echoed in the distance outside the dining hall, steadily growing closer.

“I’m not arguing with you on the pine, Rapunzel. I’m just saying there are other woods between that and oak.”

The doors to the dining room opened. Hans entered, flanked by Rapunzel’s parents. Anna flinched as his eyes met hers and held.

“Like what? Mahogany? Walnut?” Rapunzel asked Eugene, oblivious to the newcomers. “Guess what, they’re even _more_ expensive than the oak.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of birch or maple?”

“Okay, birch or maple _maybe_ , but—”

Aunt Primrose cleared her throat.

Rapunzel whirled around. She blushed beneath her mother’s stare. “Sorry. We’ll continue this outside,” she quickly said. “The three of us were done with breakfast anyway.”

She grabbed Anna’s hand, pulling her out of her seat and towards the door. Eugene started to open it for them—

“Wait,” Hans said.

Everyone froze.

“Your majesty,” Aunt Primrose said quietly. “You said we were going to discuss trade agreements between Corona and Ostenberg this morning. Surely you can catch up with Princess Anna and the others later.”

“Right,” Hans said, still staring at Anna. Then he finally turned away. “Right…”

Eugene pushed open the door. Anna watched Aunt Primrose guide Hans to the dining table even as Rapunzel herded her into the hallway and out of view.

“Oh my God,” Rapunzel whispered as Eugene slammed the door shut behind the three of them. “I can’t believe that worked.”

“Not out of the fire yet,” Eugene whispered back. “How long do you think your parents will be able to keep him in there?”

“Another hour or two at least. They prepped a really long list of trade questions. And I mean a _long_ list.”

Eugene nodded. “Right.”

“Okay, that’s it!” Anna hissed, tearing her arm from Rapunzel’s grip. “What the hell is going on?! I keep asking you questions and all you talk about is food and dresses and inn remodels and—”

Rapunzel shushed her. “Not here in the hall,” she whispered. “We don’t know how many ears he’s got working for him. Just five more minutes, okay? Give us your trust for five more minutes.”

“It’s not an issue of trust— Hey!” Anna yelped as they both grabbed and pulled her down the hall.

“Sorry. You heard Rapunzel. We don’t have a lot of time, and you’re going to want every second of it.”

“Time?” Anna echoed blankly. She paused. “Wait…”

She tried to piece together what was happening as Rapunzel and Eugene continued to drag her through the halls. Hans was intentionally stuck at breakfast with Rapunzel’s parents—that was the one part of the plan she understood. That meant that Hans wasn’t currently wandering the castle. That meant that wherever Rapunzel and Eugene were leading her… it was to something they didn’t want Hans finding out about.

Or to someone.

Anna didn’t want voice her suspicions out loud and get her hopes crushed if she was wrong, but she quickened her steps, falling in line with them as they twisted and turned through the castle.

They eventually entered a room in the west wing. Anna’s heart briefly leapt at the sight of a woman facing the window, gazing out at the sea—

But she had brown hair and a plain, tan dress… it definitely wasn’t her sister. Just a random maid.

Anna frowned in confusion.

Rapunzel cleared her throat and the maid silently turned to face them. Her eyes widened at the sight of Anna.

“We’ll leave the two of you alone,” Rapunzel said gently. “We’ll watch the hall. Let you know if anyone’s coming.” She and Eugene closed the door with a soft click before Anna could stop them.

Anna turned back to the servant who was still silently staring.

And staring.

Anna coughed.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not exactly sure why they dropped me off here. You wouldn’t by any chance happen to know what’s going…?”

The maid suddenly stepped forward and cradled Anna’s face in her hands. Her eyes—strange, unsettling, and brown—carried a look of disbelief. The eyes of a complete stranger. A stranger who was touching Anna’s face.

Anna laughed nervously. “Okay, enough with face thing,” she said, lightly pushing the maid’s hands away as she took a step back. “Rapunzel already gave me the pat down.” She kept her smile up, hoping for the maid to copy her… but something wasn’t right. Tears were welling up in the maid’s eyes. “Hey, umm… are you alright?”

“N-no,” the maid finally said, and the familiarity of voice jerked Anna to attention. “I—”

The maid looked away, then reached up to her ears—to a pair of dark emerald earrings; maids didn’t wear emerald earrings—and pulled them off. The gemstones glowed. Anna jumped back as a flicker of light passed over the maid’s features, changing them.

It was Elsa.


	33. Act Four: Part Eight

“Anna,” Elsa breathed, squeezing her sister into another crushing hug.

Anna stood limp. Eventually her mouth found the coordination to reply. “Elsa?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” Elsa whispered into her neck. A chill dampness spread across it; she was crying. “I’m sorry I failed you. I failed you as a sister and as a—”

“Elsa, it’s okay. Really.”

Anna drew back, but Elsa still clung to her, refusing to let go of her arms. Anna lifted her own hand to Elsa’s face, felt the soft curve of her cheek and committed it to memory so that when she left—

Her heart sunk.

How could she ever leave?

“What’s wrong?” Elsa said, apparently noticing her distress.

“I… It’s nothing. You on the other hand—” Anna smiled, her eyes bright and watery. “How did you—? I mean, you were just here but it wasn’t you but it _was_ and, oh God, I sound like a crazy idiot, but you know what I’m saying, right?”

Elsa let out a small snort of laughter. “I do,” she said, smiling softly. “I do.” She released Anna’s arms and held up the emerald earrings she’d been wearing. “These have been helping me get around. Unfortunately, white hair…” She twirled a strand around a free finger. “Just a wee bit noticeable.”

“Can I?” Anna asked, holding out a hand.

Elsa gave the earrings to her and Anna held one up to the light.

“They’re magic?” She realized it was a stupid question even as she asked it.

“Yes, Kristoff bartered for them back in—”

Anna tore her attention from the jewels, arm still hanging in the air. “Kristoff? He’s here too?”

“Yes. Well, no. He’s not in the city. We couldn’t reach him in time. None of us knew that you were coming until last night.”

Anna stared at Elsa, then lowered her hand. “Tell me everything,” she said firmly.

The room was small, with only a towering china cabinet and a couple chairs for furniture. Elsa led Anna to the nearest pair. As they sat, Elsa’s gaze continuously flickered between Anna and the door, her shoulders stiff and tense.

“We went everywhere,” she said finally, not quite meeting Anna’s eyes. “We really did. Sovkaya, Borogravia, down to Kyprios on the Southern Sea, and then east after that to Ajkhania. We followed every rumor and whisper of magic possible of taking down a god. We tracked down wisemen, rediscovered more than a dozen supposedly “lost” tomes…”

Anna leaned forward. “And?”

“And nothing! It was all for nothing!” Her fingers curled up as she pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. Ice prickled across the embroidered fabric of the chairs and down the mahogany legs to the floor. “Kristoff and I wasted so much time just _mucking_ around while you were stuck with him. I was free while you were tortured and tormented and—”

“Elsa! Stop!”

Elsa blinked dazedly at the ice she’d created, creeping halfway up the walls now, and then collapsed in despair. Her ice vanished into smooth, glittering powder.

Anna sat stiff with her hands clasped together in her lap. She wanted to pat her sister on the back, wanted to whisper empty promises of ‘it’s okay, everything will still be alright’ to cheer her her. But Elsa had never liked empty words or empty promises. Whatever Anna said, it had to come from the heart. It had to _mean_ something.

“I don’t believe you.”

Elsa blinked up at her. “What?”

“Your trip being a total waste. I don’t believe you,” Anna said. “I mean, you said you found… what? A dozen lost tomes? That’s like a dozen potentially useful pages times a hundred. And even if they don’t have one, _specific_ god-fighting spell in them, maybe if you combined everything you found…?”

Elsa shook her head. “No,” she said. Her back hunched as she stared at the floor. “Unless you think mixing a carrot ripening spell and sword sharpening charm together will help.”

Anna refused to give up.

“These earrings seem useful,” she said, holding up an open palm.

“Right,” Elsa said bitterly. “We found one useful thing out of thousands.”

Anna shrugged. “Better than zero things.”

Elsa lifted her head and stared at Anna. “It’s really you,” she said, face transfixed in awe. “I was so scared that by the time I came back… it’d be too late.”

Anna shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She rearranged her hands, letting her right cover her left. “You shouldn’t have worried,” she said. “Hans would never kill me.”

A pained look twisted across Elsa’s face. “That’s not what I—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I know. That is, I knew he’d keep you alive so he’d have something to hold against me.”

Anna opened her mouth, ready to argue, ‘no, that’s not the reason,’ and then paused.

Because _wasn’t_ that the reason?

It was the reason Anna had been telling herself since he’d first taken her prisoner at any rate…

“Still, three continents of traveling and we’re straight back at the one we started on. I don’t know what else to do. Where else to look…” Elsa let out a broken laugh. “You’d be surprised at the number of people who—” She took a deep breath. “Ask about unicorns or dragons and they’ll immediately drag out the horns and talons from some back room. Ask about gods and they’ll drag out blank stares, or worse, repeat that insufferable, utterly useless, fairytale method of dealing with them.”

Anna frowned. “What method?”

“It’s not a method,” Elsa muttered with a groan. “It’s a joke. Shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Elsa shook her head. “Who knows,” she said with a distressed smile. “Maybe it could work on other gods, assuming there are other gods prancing about somewhere—and trust me, we looked. But not Hans. Figures he would pick a form that’s only weakness is something he doesn’t have.”

A prickle crept up the back of Anna’s spine.

“How do you know it wouldn’t work on him?”

Elsa glanced dismissively sideways at Anna. “Because he doesn’t have a heart.”

Anna stared at Elsa as she rose and moved to the window, careful to keep herself at its edges and out of sight from the glass.

“The only way a god can lose his powers is if he voluntarily gives them up,” she said, her back to Anna. “Or, as that one Borogravian merchant phrased it, a life for an immortal life.”

Elsa ran her fingers through her hair as she shook her head again.

“I don’t understand,” Anna said.

“A god can trade his powers and immortality to save the life of a mortal who’s dying.” Elsa turned back to Anna with a wry smile. “And now you see why it’s such a joke.” She leaned against the wall, chewing at her thumb. “There _has_ to be another way though, some ancient knowledge still hidden away somewhere. If we could only find it—”

Anna didn’t hear her. She stared at her hands cradled together in her lap, at the emerald earrings still resting against her palms as she tried to imagine Hans giving up his godhood to save someone else’s life.

He certainly wouldn’t sacrifice his powers to save any of his brothers. Not his first wife either. Murdering Princess Josephine had been part of his master plan to take over without appearing all Evil Conquerer about it, and that was the exact opposite of what this spell—this magic? this force?—called for. And beyond that miniscule social circle, Anna wasn’t sure if Hans even _knew_ anyone else, let alone cared enough about them to throw away everything that made him, well, frankly… _him_.

She circled through the short list again. Of course, there’d been that _one_ brother that he’d mentioned liking, the one who’d run off into the woods a decade ago. Perhaps Anna could get Kristoff and Elsa to search for him, bring him back to Weideland, arrange for some touchingly dramatic reunion… and then shoot him with an arrow or something?

It was rather morbid, thinking through the actual details that’d be required, and it probably wouldn’t work because who knew how close the brothers would even be after years and years and years apart, but there wasn’t anyone else Hans had ever talked about without either a fake smile or deep scowl carved into his face, excluding his horse, Sitron, who she also hadn’t seen in forever, and, well, _herself_ , but she didn’t count because she—

Anna paused.

No.

He’d never…

Would he?

By now Anna felt pretty confident that Hans wouldn’t ever do anything to actively cause her death… but to save it?

She let out a snort of laughter.

She really was going crazy after all.

“What is it?” Elsa asked.

Anna started to reply with a short ‘nothing’ and then caught herself. Her thoughts rushed back to the night before last, to Hans drunk across her lap and spilling his heart out… Because there _had_ been a heart there, twisted and broken as it was. And then her thoughts continued further back, years and years back, and Hans was on his knees, offering her the same apple of immortality that he’d later taken a bite from.

 _Why am I here, Hans?_ she’d asked him once.

And he hadn’t answered.

Her breaths became shallow, eyes scanning blankly over the floor as she fought to keep her chest steady.

“Anna?” Elsa asked, her voice echoing and distant.

Anna snapped back to the present. Elsa was staring at her in stark concern.

“I think…” Anna said. She swallowed. “I think I could do it.”

“Do what?” Elsa asked blankly. As they continued staring at each other, Elsa’s eyes widened in understanding and horror. “No,” she said. “No, no, no. We are thinking of the same Hans, right? The one who’s already shown that he has absolutely no problem leaving you to die even _without_ his godly powers at stake?”

Anna tried to speak, but Elsa cut her off.

“And don’t you _dare_ say something ridiculously stupid like ‘he’s changed’, because if you do, I _swear_ to God—”

“I’m not!” Anna snapped. Then softer, she added, “I’m not… But…”

Elsa remained terse, nostrils flared and glare piercing, like their whole situation was now somehow Anna’s fault for bringing up the one solution that could fix it. “But. What.”

“It’s not… I know Hans hasn’t changed. Not like that.”

Still, there was a definite seed of… something there. Whether or not that something was 'love' was debatable, but if she could somehow twist her way further into his already twisted heart and lodge herself there…

Anna let out a breath. “I’m not saying he loves me.”

“Then why are you even—”

“Not yet, anyway.”

The room temperature dropped. Elsa had gone deathly pale. “Anna,” she said, voice trembling. “If you keep talking about this, I will drag you away myself, fate of Corona and the rest of this continent be damned.”

Anna shuddered at the hard glint in her sister’s eyes. She knew Elsa would do it too. And she couldn’t lie to herself, the thought of just giving up and running _was_ tempting: no more Weideland castle, no more imprisonment, nothing but Elsa and Kristoff and Sven and possibly Olaf? Anna had forgotten to ask her sister about Olaf and now seemed the wrong time because the important thing was that they’d be together.

But together where?

Certainly not in Corona. Certainly not in Arendelle.

They’d be abandoning their kingdoms and their family and their friends. They’d have to stay on the run forever. Could Elsa really live out her life satisfied with that?

Could Anna?

Anna’s shoulders slumped. The heavy glumness and guilt that suddenly coursed through her easily answered _that_ question.

She forced herself to keep looking at Elsa. “He offered me the apple first.”

Elsa blinked at her. “What?”

“The apple that made him a god,” Anna said. The words stuck against the sides of her throat and she had to push them out. It was the missing part of the puzzle that she hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, hadn’t even wanted to repeat back to herself, and she hadn’t known why… until now. “Hans offered it to me first.”

Elsa stared at her, then broke in a series of small, snorting laughs. “What are you saying? That he—” Her look hardened. “No. Anna… no. Even if he had, it was probably some kind of trap. He probably wanted you to beg him for it, just so he could snatch back it away and laugh at you. That’s what he does.”

“And if it wasn’t a trap?” Anna said. At Elsa’s silence, she continued. “There’ve also been… other things. Since then.”

“What other things?”

“Well, umm… you know, other things.” She’d told her sister about the apple, but Hans’ drunken episode still seemed too personal on both sides to carelessly blab about. “Not _those_ kind of things!” Anna quickly added as the sight of Elsa’s wide-eyed face. She suddenly imagined what Elsa must’ve been imagining: Hans pinning her against a castle wall, the heat of his lips trapping her own as his hand dragged itself down—

— _and_  that was quite enough of that vision.

Anna let out a shaky breath.

“In fact,” she continued. “The fact that he hasn’t tried any of… _that_ , is all the more proof that he wants me to be comfortable.”

“Comfortable.”

“Okay, maybe not the best word, but—”

“Anna, you’re his prisoner.”

Anna stood from her chair. “Look,” she said curtly. “Elsa. You said it yourself. It’s not like we have any other amazing options currently skipping by. Or other options period. And I mean, you said that this was what all your witches and wisemen and magic shop people kept coming back to. So it’s gotta be worth at least a _try_ , doesn’t it?”

Elsa’s face was pale and her lips thin and her fists clenched tight beside her, but she hadn’t triggered any blizzards yet, so… that was something.

“Anna,” she finally said in carefully measured tones. “If you ‘try’ this and you’re wrong, you will _die_.”

Anna reimagined her planned reunion between Hans and his ranger brother. She pictured the arrow striking his chest, and his blood pouring out across the marble tiled floor, staining it forever.

And then she replaced the brother’s face with her own. Replaced the blossoming horror in Hans’ face with the smirk he’d worn when he’d abandoned her in that frozen room to die.

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

“Well,” Anna said. “Then that’s just the risk I’m going to have to take.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END ACT FOUR
> 
> (...my vile shipper heart has finally revealed itself in all its vile shipper glory.)
> 
> There'll be a two to three week intermission, after which I'll return with biweekly updates for Act Five. I've outlined approximately nine parts for that one. Might flex a bit, but yeah. The plan is to have this whole story completed by summer's end.


	34. Act Five: Part One

Anna stared at her dinner plate and the roast quail huddled at its center. She tried to eat normally but kept missing with her fork, barely catching it before it clinked against the china.

It’d been two days since their return to Weideland. Despite Anna’s plan—despite the confidence and determination she’d shown Elsa—she had taken her first dinner up in her room. Apparently she was allowed to do that now. She had almost done the same tonight, but the burning thought of facing her family again with nothing to show forced herself downstairs.

“Princess Anna?” Hans asked from his seat across the table. “Is there something wrong?”

His voice startled Anna out of her thoughts.

She squirmed beneath Hans’ unreadable frown, his green eyes unsettlingly piercing. She glanced upwards, breaking eye contact. As always, his hair was combed and trimmed with its usual pristine exactitude; the only time it ever hadn’t had been back during their multi-day, mirror-and-razor-less survival journey to the mystical cave.

Well… their multi-day journey _and_ that drunken night in Wallonia…

Anna opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out. Her thoughts couldn’t unhook themselves from the truth: _I’m trying to figure out the best way to seduce you._

“Nothing,” she eventually mumbled. “Just… I want to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“For letting me see Rapunzel.”

Yes. That was good. Compliments were good.

And then her tongue tripped over the finish line:

“Of course, if I got to see her more _often_ , I wouldn’t get as worried.”

The words cut across the empty space of the dinner hall like a lash. Keeping her eyes down on her plate, she waited for Hans’ answering gibe…

But nothing came.

Anna ate a couple more stiff bites, and then curiosity won out. She snuck a glance. Then another. The third time, she let her eyes linger and caught the way Hans’ throat moved as he swallowed.

She looked back down at her plate, trying not to flush.

Her plan shouldn’t have been a big deal. After all, once upon a time, she’d been engaged to Hans. She’d been engaged for several days— Okay. Day and a half. Technically. The point was, it hadn’t been disturbing thinking about… well, _those_ things back then. Quite the opposite, really. But that’d been years ago. Somewhere between that former echo of herself and now, Anna had buried all those naive feelings and memories and hopes and dreams deep inside herself, deep beneath heavy layers of shame and guilt, and digging them back out was backbreaking work.

Anna took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. When she cracked them open again, Hans was polishing off the remainders of his meal, seemingly unconcerned with her again. He looked perfectly ordinary, all her godly powers locked up somewhere beyond visible sight.

If she was wrong about this, she could very well be digging out her own grave.

After dinner, Anna curtly excused herself, scraped her chair back, and practically fled the dining hall. She cursed herself all the way back to her room, then slammed the door behind her. She leaned her back against the paneled wood as breathed in and out, combing her thoughts back in order. Her needlepoint of Arendelle was right where she’d left it, right where it’d been before her grand Wallonia-Coronan adventure—a reminder that home wasn’t going anywhere and neither was she if she didn’t _do_ something.

Anna let out a frustrated groan. Pushing herself from the door, she began to pace the room.

Her plan had seemed so easy when she’d talked it up with Elsa.

Hans was in love with her.

Or maybe in love with her.

He’d offered her co-world domination once. Twice.

It was something.

The point was, she’d never figure out what that something was if she _kept running away_.

Anna flung her head back and mentally screamed at the ceiling. When that was done, she exhaled, shoulders slumping. And then she rightened herself.

She smoothed her hands over the tops of her braids.

That’s right. She was going to do this. She had to take charge. If she stayed in her room tonight, she was going to have to face the exact same world and the exact same choices tomorrow. Best to deal with it now and do… do… _something_.

Resolved solidified—for now—Anna forced herself out of her room. After a few false starts, she made her way to Hans’ study. Its solid oak door loomed before her. Swallowing nervously, she knocked twice, waited half a second, and then entered without an official invitation.

Hans was sitting at his desk behind three columns of perfectly stacked paper. One document was laid out directly before him. He paused with his fountain pen in mid-stroke and stared up at her.

“Yes?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Anna’s few scantly thought-through seduction plans—plans of sidling up to his disk, splaying her hands across the smooth wood as her dress straps artfully slid down her bare shoulder—evaporated from her head. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t some full-figured, smoky-eyed seductress. Any of her clumsy attempts would probably end with her on the floor and Hans howling in laughter. The problem was, Anna hadn’t mentally lined up anything to replace those plans. Her brain scrambled for some sort of excuse for her late night visit.

Hans’ eyebrow lifted higher, a pointed judgement in the thickening silence.

Anna cast her gaze around his study, searching for anything that would trigger inspiration. As the world started to spin, her eyes landed on his desk and stuck to it like an anchor.

“I—” Anna paused, coughing. “I want to help you with your paperwork.”

Hans stared at her.

“What.”

Anna swallowed. It sounded stupid—almost as stupid as her seduction fantasies—but now that she’d said it, she had to commit. Clearing her throat, she forced herself to continue: “I have experience, you know. I was part of Arendelle’s consulate for years, and despite what you might think, it wasn’t all ballroom parties and drinks.” She lifted her fingers and began to count off. “I’ve reviewed census studies, summarized trade policies, sorted through immigration documents…”

She trailed off, self-conscious. Hans wasn’t saying anything. _Why wasn’t he saying anything?_

He continued to stare at her, mouth creasing into a frown.

“Why?” he finally asked.

Anna flushed. Her mouth answered before her brain had time to process the words. “You look tired.”

His frowned deepened. Then he snorted dismissively. “So? It’s not like I need sleep anymore.”

“Do you want sleep?” she asked automatically.

She’d either said the right thing or the very, _very_ wrong one because Hans suddenly went very still and silent. As the study continued to blanket itself in swamp-thick awkwardness, Anna spun on her heel and made for the door, desperate to leave with the pitiful scraps of face she still had.

“Wait,” Hans said.

She froze. Behind her, she heard him shuffle through the papers on his desk.

“I guess…” he drawled, “if you really want to help _that_ badly, it wouldn’t hurt to have a second pair of eyes review this.”

Anna twisted her head. Hans tapped a thin stack of papers vertically against his desk before holding them out to her. After staring a moment, she cautiously approached, as though he was offering up a ball of fire instead of inert sheets of pressed wood. She flinched as he dropped them into her hands.

“You’ll also need a notebook and pen,” Hans continued, pulling open a small drawer and laying both items before her. “I want both a summary and your generalized thoughts on the proposal, whether or not it hurts or hinders the people of Weideland.”

As Anna glanced down at the title page, she couldn’t suppress a small grimace: _Proposal for the Rebalancing of the 1807 Trade Act with Wallonia Concerning Secondhand Market Textiles_. It was obscure and pedantic—Anna wondered how deep Hans had dug into his piles for it—but technically as official and necessary as anything else on his desk.

As she looked up, she noticed Hans actively watching her. Waiting.

Anna grabbed his offered pen and notebook and then, scanning the room, grabbed a vacant chair from near one of the bookcases, made sure its back was against the wall, and got straight to work.

Within the first paragraph, she realized just how mentally out of shape she was in parsing legalese. It was almost another language entirely, each sentence crammed full of words and phrases she’d only ever encountered in this sort of stiff political context. Slowly, painfully, she made her way down the page. Often, a numbered paragraph made a reference to another earlier numbered paragraph and she’d have to backtrack. Tapping the end of the fountain pen against her tongue, she shuffled papers to the bottom of the stack. She shuffled them back to the front.

After what felt like forever, Anna glanced up, searching the room for a clock. There wasn’t one. Not wanting to temp fate by asking a so-far-mercifully-quiet Hans for the time, she sullenly returned to the paperwork. As she flipped to the sixth page and made what felt like her sixtieth page of notes— _how was she supposed to know whether or not a new two pence import tax was supposed to be good for the people of Weideland or not?_ —she yawned, the gesture wide and stretching.

“Tired already?” Hans asked with an audible smirk to his voice.

Anna shot him a glare from her little spot. She opened her mouth, about to argue, then paused—that’s what he wanted her to do—and then sniffed lightly and shrugged instead.

“A bit…” Anna admitted. “But I don’t mind. I mean, it’s not like I get to do anything _else_ during the day.”

She waited for his response, and then smirked herself when it didn’t come. If he was distressed by her constantly reminding him of his despotic nature, well… then he never should’ve kidnapped her in the first place. As Hans silently returned to his own paperwork, Anna bowed her own head in satisfaction.

When she was done bluffing her way through her last tax-related notes, she flipped through the twenty-page stack, double-checking her work. She stiffly uncurled herself from where she’d unconsciously pulled her legs up onto the chair and stretched. Then she shoved notebook, pen, and paper combined into the space in directly front of Hans’ nose.

She kept it there, seemingly unnoticed, her arm beginning to quaver with the effort of holding itself parallel to the floor. As Anna stared to debate the pros and cons of coughing loudly in Hans’ ear, he finally clasped his pen shut and wordlessly took the materials from her. His face was emotionally neutral as he thumbed through her notebook, occasionally lingering on one of her more illegible sections. Then he gave a single nod and placed the trade proposal on top of his desk’s far left stack.

Anna swallowed, waiting for him to say something.

He didn’t.

Frustration simmered up inside her. She wanted to _demand_ he say something—because why else had she put in this work—but even if she did give into temptation and even _if_ he listened to her, what kind of answer was she really expecting? Something like… _Gee Anna, you’ve done such a great job, I’ll just kick back and let you take over as empress from now on_?

Ha. As if.

She’d only volunteered her help in order to kill the prior awkwardness and now she was starting to lose even that single success because the room was definitely getting awkward again and Hans _still_ wasn’t looking up and her eyes felt so heavy after processing through twenty full pages about nothing but textiles and taxes and Anna suddenly couldn’t stop the loud yawn that escaped her. When even _that_ didn’t prompt a response from the red-haired man behind the desk, Anna gave up. Too brain-dead to think of any other genius ideas for the night, Anna dragged herself out of the study. She stumbled towards bed as the outside sky began to warm from the deep blue-black of night into the softer purples of dawn.

* * *

At dinner the next night, Hans didn’t bring up the work Anna had done for him. He didn’t press her for her general feelings. He didn’t make any cutting gibes. He didn’t remark on the gradually improving weather.

He didn’t anything.

Anna, for her part, busied herself with taking slow, self-conscious, spoonfuls of soup, each slurp feeling as though it was echoing _way_ too loud and long for the care she was putting in. Her plan to win Hans’ heart was in ruins, collapsing like an old reindeer barn in a summer wildfire. Why had she voluntarily returned to Weideland? She wished she had taken up Elsa’s offer to run away. Sure, a vast majority of the continent would’ve been screwed, but at least she and Elsa and Kristoff and maybe even Rapunzel and Eugene would’ve been together again.

That was something. Wasn’t it?

When dessert finally came, Anna shoveled just three bites into her mouth before shoving her chair back. She could escape the dining hall if not the castle entire.

“Giving up on government service already?” Hans said as she reached the double doors. Anna paused with her hand gripped around the metal handle. She turned to see Hans in profile, patting his face clean with the tablecloth. He didn’t look at her as he continued: “And here I’d actually taken the time this morning to lay out some work especially for you.” He paused for a moment, and then—as Anna remained quiet—his eyes flicked sideways and locked with hers. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk.

Of course.

Another game.

Everything was a game to him—Anna wants to help the kingdom? Mess with Anna’s head until she’s not sure she does anymore.

Anna fought back a scowl and failed. “I haven’t given up on anything.”

Hans’ smirk widened. “Exactly what I hoped to hear.”

He stood and signaled for the servants to clean up. As they began to hurry dishes back to the kitchen, he strode past Anna and pushed open the doors for her. She pointedly crossed her arms before stomping through. When they reached his study, the room was still pitch-black. Hans snapped his fingers, igniting the gas lamps that lined its walls. As always, the desk in the center of the room was stacked high with paperwork. Anna lingered by its side as Hans took his seat.

“Hold out your arms,” he said, shuffling through the piles.

After a second of hesitation, Anna did so. She waited and waited as he continued sorting, feeling foolish, and then he unceremoniously dumped a heavy stack into her arms. It was five times thicker than the stack he’d given her the night before.

Anna’s stomach felt queasy. As she glanced at the title page she froze.

“Taxes?” she said, her voice straining in a note of pleading disbelief.

Seemingly immune to her distress, Hans was already sifting through another pile. “I have reason to believe the agricultural minister is falling into corruption,” he said without looking at her. “His department’s not reporting the proper funds.”

“But this is…” As Anna took a second glance at the papers, her vision seemed to blur. “I’m not an accountant.”

Hans lifted an eyebrow. “Are you saying you can’t do it?”

Anna flushed with heat. “No, that’s not what I—”

She shut herself up. With a sharp intake of breath and a fierce glare, she hauled herself into same chair from the previous night… and then had to get straight back up again.

From the few, random lectures Arendelle’s ambassador had given once upon a time, Anna knew a bit about corruption investigations. They all boiled down to math columns that didn’t add up. Or corn that somehow cost fifty guilders an ear. For agricultural stuff, that meant she needed a reference manual on current crop prices and farm machinery. She asked Hans for as much.

Hans nodded, but remained in his seat, pulling a thick manual off one of his shelves with an invisible hand. Anna rolled her eyes as it floated down. She didn’t know what he was hoping for by showing off his fancy god powers. It wasn’t intimidating. And it wasn’t impressive.

Well, it would’ve been—a little—if not for the absolutely loathsome memory of how he’d gotten those powers.

Still, Anna accepted the book as it dropped into her hands with a heavy thump and got to work. She knew the general strategy of how to proceed, so she just had to crank it out. At least, how it should’ve been in theory. In practice, the tax records had at least thirty different columns of numbers per sheet, spanning multiple sheets, and math had never been her best subject. She found herself continuously double-checking—then triple-checking—her calculations and even then the sums she calculated didn’t always match up.

Every so often she flagged, her head drooping to the side while the logical, pessimistic side of her brain screamed at her to stop this silly charade and run back to bed already. But then, right as she was ready to give up, she’d catch Hans smirking out of the corner of her eyes and her head would jerk back up, a second—then a third, and a fourth—wind gusting beneath her.

Because even though she was slow, had always been slow, she knew she could do this.

And she would do this.

She’d show him.

She’d show everyone.


	35. Act Five: Part Two

Anna’s work stack grew thicker and thicker with every passing night. She took it all in stride with quick, plastered smiles, until one night about two weeks later, he passed her a comprehensive draft for a new inter-kingdom system of trade. The document was as thick as her head.

She stared at it, unmoving.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” Anna said, instantly recovering. “Nothing.”

She brought the work to her now usual chair and desk. It wasn’t a really desk like the one Hans sat at—more like a glorified writing table—but it was a flat surface and it worked. The piece of furniture had appeared in his study somewhere between the sixth and seventh night of working. Anna hadn’t commented on it then, but…

Anna looked back at Hans. He was already buried in a new pile of work. It seemed impossible given the bare thirty seconds that’d passed since their last interaction; it usually took Anna at least five minutes of fidgeting before she could even hope of concentrating.

She coughed. “Hans?”

“Yes?” he responded without looking.

Anna squirmed. She flipped through the many, many sheets of paper, hating herself for dragging this up. She should’ve been fighting _for_ trust and familiarity, not rebelling against it.

“Not to be rude or anything, but why the hell are you trusting me with this? I mean…” She looked at the document again. “This is a huge new system. If even half the stuff I think’s in here is in her, it’s going to impact everyone.”

“I’m not.”

Anna frowned. “What?”

“I said, I’m not trusting you.” Hans finished a couple more sentences for whatever he was writing, then placed the sheet on top of the left stack. He still didn’t look at her. “Everything you review, I review again myself.”

“Well, yeah. Obviously,” Anna said. “That’s why you have me write my notes, but—” She froze as his full meaning hit her. “You mean you’ve been reviewing _everything_? Like every page back to front? Then what’s been the point of me doing anything?”

Hans turned at that, his head cocked at a tilt. “Keeping you out of trouble of course,” he said. “What? You honestly thought I was going to let my mortal enemy come in here, let her just so suddenly, graciously _,_ offer to help me run my realm, and _not_ double check her work?”

Anna stood, glaring. “Do you know how much time I’ve wasted?”

Hans shrugged, his fingers lacing together as he grinned. “You’re the one who said you had nothing else to do with it.”

“That’s not what I—!”

Her temper snapped. Before she could think, she grabbed her fountain pen and chucked it at his head. Hans easily dodged it with a blood-boiling snort of laughter.

“And you!” she spat. “You think this is all one big game.”

His snorts loudened until he was outright chuckling. “Well, I can’t deny the entertainment factor.”

Anna had enough. Her fists curling, she abandoned her desk and stomped out of the room.

“Wait,” Hans called out.

She paused with a hand on the door.

“I’m sorry,” she heard him say behind her. “I actually… lied, slightly. I only re-did your work for the first week. Tried to find errors, intentional or otherwise, but I couldn’t find a single one.” Anna twisted her head, staring at him. “Okay,” he corrected, “maybe there were one or two in the agricultural tax records I gave you. You added instead of multiplied a couple number in the grains column. The point is, I eventually decided you’re crazy, not diabolical, and have decided to legitimately help me for no reason whatsoever. I’ve been trusting your notes ever since.”

Anna turned fully around, her back pressed against the door. “And how do I know you’re not lying now?”

Hans shrugged. “You don’t. But that should hardly be surprising by now.”

Anna sucked in a low breath, burning with frustration. She wanted to grab Hans by his stiff collar and shove him up against one of the bookcases he loved so much, wanted intimidate him into respecting her. But she couldn’t do that. Even if she’d been a hulking two-hundred pound monster, she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t physically intimidate a god. Her next best option was to continue stomping away, deny him his source of amusement… but she couldn’t do that either. She had to keep playing by Hans’ rules.

Or at least what he thought were his rules.

After a final bout of internal wrestling, Anna forced her feet to return to her little chair and desk, pulled forward the first page of the trade document, and got to work.

* * *

The work Hans assigned her increased to the point where it spilled out of their evening work sessions. Anna would go to bed, her head buzzing with policy, only to wake up and pester Hans with a million new questions over breakfast. She still had no idea whether Hans was telling the truth about trusting her work or not, but with the amount she was starting to review and process and approve everyday, she doubted it was even possible for him to check it all and have the time to get anything done himself.

“—and I wanted to sign off on the harbor expansion budget,” Anna said, reading through said document between forkfuls of omelette and toast. “Except there’s a nasty loophole written into Article Four that gives preference to existing— Whoops.”

Hans paused in his own breakfast. “Whoops?”

Anna hastily grabbed her napkin from her lap. “Nothing, just a bit of jam.”

“You got jam on the harbor expansion budget?” Hans said, sounding as scandalized as Aunt Primrose had the day she’d heard the elderly Countess of Blueharbor was getting married to her stablemaster’s nephew.

“Can’t you just magic it off?”

“Yes, but…” he muttered. “That’s not the point.”

Anna beamed at him, melting away his grumbles until he finally sighed and magic’ed it off anyway. With a satisfied nod at the clean paper, Anna took another crunching bite of toast and launched straight back into her complaints about the loophole in Article Four.

* * *

Somewhere near the end of the month, Hans removed one of the many bookcases in his study, exposing a door that had been hidden behind it the entire time. Or maybe it hadn’t been there and Hans had just magic’ed it into existence like he did so many other things—Anna had stopped worrying over those kind of inconsequenceable details. Behind the door was a second, miniature study with a full desk and chair and even windows to gaze outside.

It was meant for her.

Anna initially hesitated to take it, not out of any worry over supposed debts or expected gratitude, but because sitting in the new room meant sitting out of sight of Hans. And that had been the whole point of her working day and night—she was bridging some sort of gap between them, forcing herself to spend physical time in his presence. Still, the new chair was comfy, made for long hours of leaning over, and she could spread a bunch more papers out on the wider desk, so yeah. She took it.

Soon after, Hans stopped taking Anna’s finished work with silent nods, but instead had her remain at his deskside as he leaned back, lazily pointing out the errors and logical word traps she’d missed. He had her run through hypothetical scenarios with him, games of “what if” and “what then” where every single kingdom was its own player and they were all following different rule books. The lessons were simultaneously informative and frustrating as all hell. Hans shouldn’t have been as good as he was at teaching her. He shouldn’t have been able transform boring things Anna had always snoozed at into something interesting. God help her, she was actually learning and becoming… well, if not masterful, then at least decent, and just knowing that it was _him_ causing the change infuriated her more than her original capture.

One evening around early March, Anna snuck into her study, hoping to cram in a half-hour of work before dinner. She was already seated before she realized there was a new stack of papers on her desk. That in and of itself wasn’t surprising—Hans liked dumping random, unexpected work on her—but the title looped across the top was.

Anna found Hans downstairs in the dining hall. She held up the paper stack.

“What’s this?”

Hans unfolded his napkin. “Exactly what it says. Revision to the post-war treaty with Arendelle.”

Anna shoved his chair around to face her. Or at least tried to. It jerked sideways a single inch. “You can’t give this to me,” she said.

“Why not? I thought you’d be thrilled.”

“But I— I’m impartial.”

Hans rolled his eyes. “Welcome to politics.”

“You know what I mean. I could sway this in Arendelle’s favor. Give Weideland a crummy end of the bargain.”

“But you won’t.” He snapped his hand, and a servant refilled his glass of wine. “Because you’re better than that.”

The frustrating thing was that he was right.

Anna retreated to her dinner chair in silence. She set the papers next to her plate, trying to ignore them. She failed. Hans’ eyes were on her, but she couldn’t help herself. She subtly lifted the first page, skimming it, then the second. By the time the main course arrived, she was reading the whole thing outright, propriety and manners be damned.

“It’s incomplete,” Anna said after dinner as they headed back up to his study.

“I know. I want you to finish it.”

Anna stared at him.

“What.”

“I know you can. I have faith in you.”

“The kind of faith where you’ll be double-checking my work again?”

“Well… yes. Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

They reached the study doors. Neither of them made a move to enter. Anna gripped Arendelle’s peace treaty closer to her chest; then she coughed, breaking the silence, and pushed her way in.

Anna spent the next ten minutes staring at the first unfinished page. Even with a separate sheet for note-taking, her fountain pen hovered above it, unwilling to commit anything to paper. Her brain tangled up in itself, stewing between what she wanted to write and what Hans obviously wanted her to write.

Because it had to be some sort of trick. Some sort of game to judge her, give her enough political rope to make herself a noose out of. After all, Hans would never give her direct power over Arendelle’s future. Not without some sort of hidden hook.

Anna groaned, her head slumping down onto the desk.

“Having a problem?” Hans called from the other room.

Anna scowled with her cheek still pressed against the oak.

Screw it. She couldn’t afford to keep spinning around in mental what-if circles.

“Nope!” Anna called out with an angry grin. “Doing just fine.”

She had to trust her gut, write the rest of the amended peace treaty as though she was still working in the Coronan embassy. If she followed what was right and just, everything else would fall into place.

With a centering breath, Anna straightened her note-taking paper and began again. She spent the next hour drafting and re-drafting, running through random hypothetical scenarios like Hans had taught her, trying to think of all the loose ends, all the loopholes, and account for them. Her temples began to pound, ached, as she scratched out line after line, rewriting sentences, rewriting entire paragraphs, sometimes rewording them, sometimes tossing them out completely.

There was a knock at the door.

Anna’s hand jerked, leaving a giant ink blot over a line that, luckily, she was already planning on tossing.

“Sorry,” Hans said. “I just thought—” He paused holding up a tea pot and an empty cup. “I had it brought up for me. Thought you might like some.”

“Tea,” Anna repeated blankly.

“That… is what I said.”

“But you don’t drink tea. At least, you haven’t been…” Her eyes narrowed. “Not while you’re working.”

Hans sighed. “Alright, you got me. I checked in earlier—not that you noticed. You were gripping your head, and… well, it looked like you could use some. It’s willow bark.”

“I’m doing fine,” Anna automatically replied.

Hans raised an eyebrow. “Did I ever say otherwise?”

Anna frowned, searching for some sort of hidden purpose behind the seemingly benevolent gesture.

“Fine,” she bit out. “Thank you. Tea would be… _nice_.”

The last word had to drag itself from her lips.

Hans’ face twitched in a half smirk. He set the cup onto her desk and poured the willow bark tea. As he passed it to her, his gaze dropped to the peace treaty.

“It’s still a work in progress,” Anna warned. “So no judging.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Anna raised an eyebrow.

“Okay,” he admitted with a careless shrug. “Maybe just a little.”

Anna gave up. She leaned back, taking the occasional sip of tea as Hans checked out her work. Three pages in, he frowned.

“What?” Anna asked.

“This section here,” he said, pointing at the relevant passage. “You want to _keep_ the Weideland soldiers in Arendelle?”

“I want to keep the navy in Arendelle,” Anna corrected. She made a twirly loop at the paper with her free hand, a gesture for him to read on. “Piracy has gone down since the takeover. Doesn’t make sense to kick out a good thing, so I thought, hey, why not give domestic control back to Arendelle but leave the inter-kingdom trade route protection stuff, well… inter-kingdom-y?”

“Won’t that put an economic strain on Weideland?”

Anna swallowed another sip of tea, shaking her head. “No, I already thought of that. Made a note somewhere…” With one hand cradling the cup to her chest, she shuffled through her pages before finally pointing at a particularly scribbly line. “With the piracy down, that lowers the price of goods for not just Arendelle but everyone that Arendelle trades with. I calculated the differences between military commissions versus the years of lost goods and everything. The economics balance right back out.”

Hans squinted, trying to read her horrible handwriting upside-down. He shifted his way around her desk until he was standing behind her. “I see… But all this means is that Weideland breaks even while Arendelle gets a sizable discount. The Weideland people will still see it as unfair and resent it.”

“Oh,” Anna said reluctantly. “I didn’t think they’d care as long as they were breaking even.”

Hans snorted. “It’s fine. Your plan’s actually pretty solid, it just needs a couple tweaks. May I?”

Anna belatedly realized he was gesturing towards her fountain pen. She nodded.

“If you hate it, you can scrap it, but…” Hans leaned forward, uncapping the pen.

It was only halfway through the first cursive word that Anna realized how close he’d gotten. Hans was bent directly over her, chest pressed against the back of her chair. His arm brushed hers as he wrote, and his breath came in warm, steady exhales against her neck.

Anna closed her eyes, keeping her body stiff and both her hands clutched around her tea cup as Hans continued to loop out sentence after sentence.

“What about something like this?” he finally asked softly.

Despite finishing whatever he’d been writing, he didn’t pull back. Anna forced herself to open her eyes. His hand rested on the sheet of paper, fountain pen balanced loosely between his long fingers. Anna swallowed, moving her gaze from it to the paragraph he’d written. It outlined the creation of a united navy, its sole purpose to defend maritime trade and its ranks drafted from all the kingdoms beneath his control.

“I— I think that’d do it.”

She glanced right and froze.

His face was inches away, his profile to her and seemingly blind to her attention. Her breath caught at the way his sideburns curved down sharp cheekbones, at the way his green eyes continued to sweep over the rest of her notes—

And then his gaze flicked her way.

Anna jerked back, panic jolting through her.

She stumbled up out of her chair. “You know,” she said breathlessly, “I think my headache is a bit worse than I thought. How time sensitive is this? I mean, can I pick it back up tomorrow?”

It was unfair how relaxed Hans seemed to be. “Of course,” he said, stretching his arms as he straightened back up.

Anna nodded, face flushing. “Right,” she said, half to him and half to herself. “Right.”

Still gripping the tea cup, she went to leave.

“Anna?”

She froze halfway to the door.

Hans leaned forward, his elbows bracing himself against the back of her chair. “I do appreciate the help. Truly.”

Her flush deepened. She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak, and skittered out the door. She didn’t stop until she’d reached her bedroom. Tottering backwards against the door, she slowly sank to the floor. As she stared up at the ceiling, she took another sip of tea.

This was good. It was what she’d wanted.

All according to plan.

If she wanted Hans to fall in love with her, then of course it needed to seem natural. It needed to seem like she was caving beneath his attentions, like he was truly winning her over. And if that meant playing to his innate, smug superiority, then so be it.

Anna buried her face into her knees and groaned.

* * *

One of the perks that came with Anna’s decision to involve herself in the running of the kingdom was the slow but steady increase of general information that passed across her desk. Literally.

“I want to go to this,” Anna said at breakfast the next morning.

Hans looked up from his food, unflinching as Anna shoved the sheet of paper in his face. He grabbed her wrist and pushed it back until it reached a legible distance again. His eyebrow raised.

“The spring festival?”

“Uh huh,” Anna said. After a night of agonized pondering, she decided the best medicine for her headache was to try and take a break from the castle again. “It’s next week. There’ll be booths with all sorts of winter-made handicrafts, and seed sales, and baby ducks and pigs and—”

“I know what a spring festival is.”

“So… can I go?”

Hans pushed Anna’s arm fully back with no resistance, then took a few bites of salted ham, chewing slowly. “Of course. I said you were free to go anywhere in the kingdom, didn’t I?”

“By myself?” Anna asked with a tinge of wistful hope.

Hans’ face hardened, albeit in a more exasperated than angry way. “Escorted.”

Anna was mostly fine with that. Regardless of her day to day feelings, a huge part of her plan still required him being around her. Of course, blanket acceptance would be too suspicious, so she let her face fall into a pout. “I didn’t have escort in Corona.”

“A lapse of my better judgement.”

Anna deepened her pout as she pulled the festival’s budget sheet back to herself. She stared at the columns of numbers and pretended to seriously ponder whether or not the festival was worth putting up with Hans. She felt like it was a pretty good ponder. Perhaps if she eventually got out of this whole mess alive, she’d quit politics and pick up her apparent hidden calling for the theatre.

“Fine,” Anna eventually muttered. Watching Hans’ face, she realized she didn’t have to fake the irritation that rose at his resulting smugness.


	36. Act Five: Part Three

Anna hauled herself up onto her horse with shaking legs. As it pranced in a circle beneath her, she tightened her grip on the reins, praying not to fall.

“Sure you don’t want to take the carriage?” Hans asked.

Anna flashed him a dark look. She _wanted_ to snap that it wasn’t _her_ fault she hadn’t ridden a horse in more than a year, but no. That would increase the tension in what she’d overall planned as a tension decreasing day. She straightened in the saddle, retaking control.

Hans sighed. “Very well. After you.”

Anna coaxed her horse out of the stable. She flinched as the sudden outdoor light hit her by surprise. She blinked beneath the overcast sky, regaining her vision, and then paused.

“What now?” Hans groaned.

Gripping her reins, Anna stared out at the vast expanse of meadow and that line of forest in the distance. She’d spent so much time up in her room last year, dreaming of being here, escaping here… and now…

Somehow she’d moved both closer _and_ further away from that goal than ever.

“Nothing,” she said brightly, shaking those thoughts from her head. “Race you there.”

Anna nudged her horse into a gallop before Hans could stop her. And he didn’t.

The wind rushed past her face. If she closed her eyes she could imagine herself in total freedom. But her equestrian skills were rusty, and she didn’t trust herself not to crash, so she didn’t. The town took only ten minutes to reach at full speed. As they approached the gates, Anna reluctantly pulled her horse back into a walk. She dropped down and winced; despite the shortness of the ride, she’d apparently used some muscles that were out of shape.

“Having regrets?” Hans asked, dismounting beside her. He brushed off his pants as a town stablehand took Sitron’s reins.

“Not at all,” Anna replied.

As she passed over her horse too, Hans extended his arm for her to take.

Anna snorted. “Don’t push your luck.”

She clasped her hands loosely behind her and let Hans lead her towards the center of the town. The spring festivities seemed to be in full swing. Handmade flags hung from every window. There wasn’t any kind of unifying pattern between them as far as Anna could tell, but there were lots of blues and greens, lots of stitched trees and painted flowers. A grid of trading tents had been set up in the town square. A massive seed exchange was happening against the east wall. In the center, a group of musicians were fiddling out folk tunes by a large fountain as several dozen couples danced before them. Next to the musicians, a huge cask had been set up; old women stood guard, pouring out hard cider that’d been casked over the winter.

“So,” Hans said, nodding at it all. “What do you want to do?”

Anna continued to stare at all. She hadn’t exactly thought through the day this far. The town square was just as crowded as the Wallonian ballroom had been, but unlike the Wallonian ballroom, she had options beyond the basic talking and dining, but still not a _lot_ of options because Anna didn’t want to dance _or_ get drunk _or_ —

“Your Majesty!” one of the cider women called out. Her head bowed as she came forward with a mug. “Care to try a sample?”

Hans turned to Anna as if seeking her permission. Anna shrugged, and he took the mug. Somehow he made the act of chugging back cider in a townsquare look dignified.

He smiled at the woman when he was done. “Refreshing as always.”

“Plenty more barrels where it came from,” the old woman said, her wrinkles grinning with her. “Good winter. Just like last years.”

The two chatted about the town. Anna tried to listen in but they were mentioning too many unfamiliar family and local business names for her to follow along, so she focused on keeping her head straight and a polite smile plastered on like a doll.

“Oh, Princess. Do forgive me,” Hans suddenly said, turning from the old woman towards Anna. “We never offered.”

He held up the mug of cider.

Anna stared at it, then quickly shook her head. “No, I’m quite fine. Thanks though.”

She watched as he passed the mug back to the old woman. “Thank you for letting me know about your nephew Jeffrey and his twins,” he told her. “I’ll pray for their good health and recovery.”

The old woman nodded and waved them on.

“Sorry, about that,” he whispered to Anna.

Anna shrugged. “Nothing to forgive.”

His face was blank. Then he coughed and his expressions seemed to reset themselves. He smiled at her. “So. Festival. Anything you wanted to do?”

Anna frowned, taking in the full scope of the square again.

“Can we just… walk?” she asked.

Hans gestured forward in answer, allowing her to take the lead. Anna wove them through the grid of trading tents, silently examining the mixture of locally made handicrafts and foreign curios. On the far side of the square, she stopped. A massive mural was being painted across the whole left side of the southern wall from corner to main archway. Townsfolk swarmed over it, some collaborating, most lost in their own little worlds until the edges of their creations bumped up against somebody else’s.

It was chaos.

Beautiful chaos.

Hans nodded at the wall. “The dye in the paint is plant-based,” he said. “Three good rainstorms and its gone. From what I’ve heard, the beauty’s supposed to be the fleeting existence of the thing. Personally I see it as a waste of time, but…” His eyes flicked toward her. “Want to join them?”

“Oh, no it’s—” Anna started automatically. She paused. “Can I?”

Hans bowed, sweeping his arm towards the mural with a loop of his hand.

Anna bounded forward. It wasn’t even like Anna was super excited about the art itself—that was Rapunzel’s thing—but as she grabbed a paintbrush and battled to dip it into the nearest can with the three other people around her, she felt herself brimming with energy. She didn’t even know what she was painting, instead letting the first few blobs and shapes dictate the general spirit of the thing. She found herself lost in it—lost in the painting, in her rambling chatter with the little girl beside her who couldn’t have been more than nine years old, in the sheer relief and non-stress at being able talk to someone and finally _not_ be talking about herself or Hans or other crazy kingdom related stuff.

Finally she took a pause and looked up. She wiped a paint-splattered hand across her forehead as she scanned the crowd. Hans was at one of the trading tents, deep in conversation with several farmers. His pristine, crisp overcoat looked out of place compared to their home stitched jerkins and mud-coated boots, but both parties were animated and seemed cheerful.

With her hand starting to cramp and orange unicorn and daisy bush completed, Anna passed her paintbrush over to the little girl who squealed at the prospect of having _two_ brushes. A water bucket had been laid out next to the paint. Anna washed her hands before making her way over to Hans and the farmers. Halfway through a comment about cultivar diversity, Hans turned. As he saw Anna, his face lit up and he smiled.

Anna froze.

It looked genuine. Too genuine.

Which was the point. Nothing was ever genuine with Hans.

Forcing a smile onto her own face, she wiped her hands dry on the outside of her cloak.

“Princess Anna, this is Willas Garland,” Hans said, gesturing to the nearest farmer. “He runs one of Weideland’s largest flower fields.”

“Your Highness,” Garland said, bowing. “Ever gardened?”

“Oh, uhh… not really, actually.” Arendelle was known for many things; prime farming real estate wasn’t one of them.

“Well, lovely thing such as yourself, should be growing things of equal beauty,” he said with a grin. “I’ve got some extra seeds. Easy things for a first timer. Get those to blossom and we can see about working you up to orchards and the like.”

Anna rubbed the back of her neck. “Oh, you don’t have to. Really—”

But the florist was already digging in the back of his stall.

“Did you put him up to this?” Anna whispered to Hans.

“Not a bit, I swear.” His smile twisted into a smirk. “What can I say? Apparently, you inspire people.”

Anna rolled her eyes but flushed all the same.

She graciously accepted Garland’s bag of seeds, nodding along as she tried to pay attention to his instructions for each enclosed, string-tied packet. When he was done, Hans took care of the goodbyes and steered them away. They didn’t get far before they were stopped by first the town’s head farrier, and the then bookseller, and the captain of the port, and what eventually started feeling like the butcher, the baker, _and_ the candlestick maker.

“Is there anyone in this town you _don’t_ know?” Anna finally asked when both of them were laden down with armfuls of gifts.

Hans waved goodbye to the president of the ladies sewing guild with his free hand. “I feel it’s important for a ruler to know his people.” He looked sideways at her. “You don’t approve?”

“No, it’s not that… just…”

She couldn’t shake the wrongness of it. Beneath the flattery and polite familial inquiries, she knew there was nothing there. Hans didn’t care about the people in this town. Not really. They were just more tools, more pawns to him. She frowned at all the gifts in her arms—all Hans had to do was smile and people gave him the world.

“Your Majesty!” a gruff voice called out.

Anna shuddered. If she had to hear that title applied to him _one_ more time…

“Elder Homburg,” Hans said with a dazzling grin. “I was hoping we’d run into each other.”

A wizened old man shuffled towards them. He leaned all of his weight on a gnarled cane, the upper half of his body moving nearly parallel to the cobbles below. “Marvelous day,” he said as he drew close. “Marvelous day. I can just _feel_ the energy seeping back into these old bones of mine.”

“Sounds like the festival’s doing its job then.”

The old man nodded before suddenly peering at Anna. “And who is this—? No, no. Don’t tell me,” he said before either Hans or Anna could respond. “You’re the princess that our king has been hiding up there in the castle. So… he’s finally lightened up enough to let the rest of us have a look at you then?”

Anna shifted with her bags. “That’s not exactly—”

“Oh, don’t worry. I know the full story. Been a prisoner of war myself back in the day. Twice over two different wars. Though I have to say, your wellbeing looks a hell of lot better than mine ever did.” Despite the smile on his face, there was a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Anna paled.

Hans cleared his throat. “Elder Homburg, perhaps this isn’t the best topic…”

The old man peered at the two of them in confusion, and then his eyes widened. “Oh, my deepest apologies, Your Majesty! Didn’t mean to offend. Do forgive the bluntness of an old man.” He nodded at Anna. “I know you’re not responsible for the deaths caused by that ice witch. What was I saying before—? Oh, yes, marvelous day. The kind of day that seeps into ones bones and livens you up…” He stared up at the sky, hand shading his eyes. “Gonna be rain later though. Can feel _that_ in my bones too.”

“Indeed,” Hans said.

Anna was silent, stuck in shock from the elder’s ice witch comment. It’d been years since she’d heard any of those sort of paranoid, close-minded things about her sister. She’d thought she’d left them all behind. Distantly, she supposed the man’s anger made sense; Arendelle and Weideland had been at war. Elsa had personally stopped some of the enemy forces, had killed…

Scanning the town square, Anna noticed people staring—fleeting glimpses, a split-second of eyes catching before the man or woman went back to whatever they’d been doing. She couldn’t keep a running count in her head, couldn’t tell whether it was because of their interest in Hans or their interest in her… Her breath caught, her stays of her dress suddenly too tight.

It was the Wallonian ballroom all over again.

“Of course,” the old man continued, oblivious to Anna’s discomfort. “It’s all thanks to another good winter. Incredibly blessed, we are, three mild winters in a row. Although, I can’t lie, it’s making me start to worry for the next.”

Anna blinked.

“Why?” she asked.

The old man coughed, apparently surprised she’d spoke. “Well,” he said. “We can’t _keep_ having mild winters, can we? Something has to tip.”

Anna stared at him, stared at Hans. “But Hans controls the weather.”

The old man stared back at her for a good, long while. Then he burst out, guffawing in laughter. “I take back what I said about your wellbeing,” he said beneath breaths. “Sure you haven’t addled her mind?”

Anna turned to Hans in realization. “They don’t know?”

His jovial mask had started to slip; there was a slightly pained expression around his eyes. “Perhaps we should move on?”

“They don’t know what you can do…” Anna continued. She sucked in a breath. “They don’t know what you _did_.”

The old man had stood ranting about Anna’s sister the _ice witch,_ but didn’t know Hans had claimed his power through similar magic. He didn’t know Hans had killed thousands. He… no, everyone in this town—probably everyone in this kingdom—thought that Hans’ reign was legitimate. They didn’t know, didn’t care, that he had murdered the previous royal family. They thought Anna was a legitimate prisoner of war, that there was nothing wrong with Hans keeping her prisoner—

“Anna?” Hans said, apparently sensing the storm brewing within her. “Perhaps this is something we should talk about in private—”

“Private?!” Anna snapped. “No! We’re talking about this right here, right now!”

She threw the town’s gifts at the ground, but they never hit; they slowed, stopping just a foot from impact. Anna stared at them, then at Hans, his face neutral, and then at the surrounding town.

Everything, everyone, was frozen.

“Undo it,” she said.

“No.”

Her fists trembled.

“Fine,” Anna snapped. “Wrap all these people into your perfect happy dreamworld if you want. I’m not taking part of it!”

She stomped off in the direction of the town stables. She didn’t care about the “plan” anymore. Didn’t care that she was _supposed_ to be playing the besotted captive, that perfect happy dreamworld was exactly what—

“Anna!”

Hans grabbed her wrist.

She whirled around, yanking it free. “Don’t you _dare_ touch me!”

His eyes widened, but he didn’t move to grab at her again. With a final glare, she turned back around and continued towards the stables. She had her horse reined and saddled up before she realized the main flaw in her escape plan. She groaned.

She sensed Hans behind her.

“Can you at least unfreeze my horse?” she muttered. Seconds later, her horse snorted and shook its head. “Thank you.”

Hans remained standing next to Sitron as she pulled herself up.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Back to the castle,” she replied, looking straight ahead. “A prisoner’s allowed to let herself back into her prison, isn’t she?”

“Anna, I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t meant to _what_ , Hans?” she snapped. “Summon a blizzard that killed thousands of people? Murder King Henri and his daughter? Attack Arendelle? Imprison me?” She took a deep breath as her anger threatened to collapse out from under her. “Just go back to the square. I’m sure Elder Hamburger will have a bunch of questions about the king and his captive-in-tow disappearing in the blink of an eye.”

Hans looked uncomfortable.

Anna glared at him. “What?”

“I already took care of it.”

“Took care of it? How could you possibly have—?” She froze, mouth dropping in horror. “You altered his memory?”

“I can’t alter memories,” Hans said quickly. “I can only erase them. And only while they’re still fresh.”

Anna let out a noise of disgust. She snapped the reins and galloped out of the stables, letting her anger and frustration burn through her as she urged her mount faster and faster. It wasn’t enough, but it was all she had.

She didn’t pull to a stop until she was halfway between the town and the castle. The trees on either side of the main road swayed back and forth, wind rustling their leaves. Whatever time spell Hans had placed on the town, it either didn’t extend out this far or Hans had lifted it by now.

A slight rumble echoed through the air.

Anna looked up at the darkening sky. The old man had been right—it was going to rain.

“I can get rid of it, if you want,” Hans called out behind her.

Anna scowled back. Of _course_ he was still following her.

“Right,” she snorted. “Because more magic is obviously what I want at the moment.”

“You’re going to get soaked.”

Anna remained silent as she urged her horse back into a trot.

“You _want_ to get soaked?”

She shrugged without looking back.

Before long, the rain started to fall. It came in small, irregular droplets before widening into a steady, un-ignorable drizzle. Anna had to periodically wipe her bangs from her face as they got water-logged. It dripped into her eyes, soaked her dress until it weighed heavy against her legs. Hans had pulled up alongside her, although he maintained his distance by keeping to the far side of the road. He’d put up an invisible shield over himself and Sitron; both were as dry as when they’d set out that morning.

Anna gave an irritated huff.

Up ahead, the castle loomed in the ever-nearing distance. Anna wasn’t ready to go back, not just yet, a part of her screaming to be contradictory just to be contradictory. At the next fork in the road, she steered her horse down the wrong path.

“I thought you said you were going to the castle,” Hans instantly said.

“I changed my mind.” She glanced his way, then decided to use his own words against him. “You _did_ say I could go anywhere I wanted as long as you were with me. Or was that another one of your lies?”

She could see his face darken through the rain, but he didn’t say anything further, so Anna urged her mount on. The fork led them onto a smaller dirt path that cut through hilly fields and was peppered with the occasional copse of ash and elm. Anna didn’t care where it led her. She didn’t care about the destination, didn’t care about anything other than the knowledge that she was doing something that Hans didn’t want, and she took her satisfaction from the periodic groans and huffs behind her.

It wasn’t until the rain began to harden, ever heavy droplet stinging as it hit, that Anna’s raw spite finally began to cool. Perhaps a direct return to the castle and hot bath wouldn’t have been such a bad thing after all.

Anna pulled her horse into a full halt, and Hans pulled to a stop alongside her.

“Giving up?” he asked.

“It’s not giving up,” she said, and she realized she had to shout it, her words otherwise swallowed by the roar of the rain.

The world was a grey, hazed blur as the rain came down in torrents. Anna tried to turn her horse around on the path. It refused, so she dropped off, boots squelching in the mud, and began to lead it on foot.

The going was slow. The dirt path had turned into a muddy quagmire that pulled at everything it touched. Her feet sank, and she had to yank them back out again with every step, and the rain hurt, and it was cold.

“Say the word and I can bring the sun back,” Hans said, apparently sensing her weakness. “The rain’ll take more effort to dissipate now that it’s built up, but I can still do it.”

“I didn’t ask you to—!” Anna squinted through the rain and then pointed ahead. “Up there! We can take shelter. Wait it out.”

She pulled her horse forward and, after a few more yards of struggle, managed to make it beneath one of the leafy copses. It wasn’t perfect—rain still dripped through gaps in the branches, but it would do. The unremitting press of the rain had been lifted from her shoulders and she could see again. It also made her realize just how soaked she was, and she held out her arms (as if keeping them away from her body would actually do anything to help them dry faster).

Hans stopped with her. He swung off Sitron and gazed past the curtain of water at the drenched countryside.

“So,” Anna said as she squeezed out the ends of her braids. “You can’t alter memories, it’s harder to change weather once it’s started rolling a bit… Any other power limits I should know about?”

He snorted. “Nice try.”

Anna continued squeezing her hair, the patter of the rain actually kind of soothing now that it wasn’t outright attacking her. When her hair felt twice its normal weight again—compared to the quadruple weight it’d been feeling out in the downpour—she stared at Hans again. The man was perfectly dry, the starch still visible in the lines of his clothes, and his hair still combed with just that little bit of lift. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a stuffy museum guarded portrait. Meanwhile she was standing there like a drowned cat, her braids limp, the hem of her dress and cloak caked with mud… Anna wondered if they were salvageable or if the servants would just cut them up for rags the second she got back.

Anger rekindled at the thought.

This was Hans.

This was his life—flitting over everyone else, floating in some separate parallel world while the rest of them had to struggle and crawl and force themselves to keep going to survive. He was perfect.

Too perfect.

And she couldn’t stand it anymore.

Anna swung her boot back and kicked a clump of mud at him. It hit him mid-leg, splattering across his trousers.

“Hey!” he snapped, whirling around. “What are you—?!”

Anna was already bending down, scooping up another handful and flinging it at his face. It barely missed, so she tried again.

“Dragging you down with the rest of us!” she yelled.

She managed to hit him the third time. It was a glancing blow, barely dusting his cheek, but left enough of a stain on his flawless face that she felt herself flush, her body tingling with victory.

Then she got hit herself and she stumbled backwards, wiping and spluttering mud from her mouth.

“What the—?” She hadn’t seen him lift his hands… then scowled as she suddenly realized he’d used his magic to throw it. “Hey! That’s not fair!”

Hans flashed her a dark grin. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware there were rules to ambush and assault.”

Anna let out a growl and doubled-downed on her efforts. For every good hit she got in, Hans managed three. They circled each other, Anna trying to dodge his latest missiles, when her boot hit a slick patch of mud and slid out from under her. She grabbed onto Hans’ overcoat and dragged him down with her, both of them toppling straight into the mud.

Her head spun, the world taking a bit to straighten.

Hans groaned as he pushed himself up. His fingers and wrists were coated with brown. Whatever invisible shield he’d placed over himself had broken; the rain was starting to hit the top of his head, trickle down across, his forehand, down past lips that were curved into a scowl. Scowling at her.

“Well, I hope you’re satisfied because—”

He paused, staring at her.

Anna paused at his pause, trying to figure out what was wrong. Hans couldn’t have been _that_ mad at the mud, could he? As she fumed at his pettiness—a little bit of mud was nothing compared to the thousand other things that he’d done to her—Anna slowly realized he was directly on top of her, chests barely apart, legs tangled together, his face inches from hers. Anna took a trembling breath. They were both soaked, both covered with mud, and this wasn’t at all how she’d imagined things when she’d told Elsa she’d—

And then Hans kissed her.

His mouth pressed hot against hers. Warmth shot through her, melting through the cold that’d been numbing her bones. Her eyes fluttered shut and she felt herself pushing back, meeting his kiss with her own, grabbing him closer. Somewhere in the back of her brain—as her muddy fingers tangled in his hair; his stupid, perfect hair—she knew this was wrong. She hated him, _God_ , she hated him… but it felt so good. From the softness of his lips, gentle but demanding, to the steady weight of his hand with his thumb digging against her waist, moving down towards—

A cold slice of panic shot through her and Anna pushed him off.

She sat up, clutching her hands to her chest as if to cover herself even though she was fully clothed. Her breath came in heavy pants, her face burning. Hans was staring at her, eyes dark and unfocused, looking similarly flushed.

Anna coughed.

Well.

That was…

Whatever it was, it’d answered one question: Hans was definitely interested in her.

First step in her plan achieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will be weekly from here on out. Like Anna, I am fully focused on getting to the end. (Also FYI, I think I'll be looking at 44-45 chapters total, not 42 chapters. So... yay.)


	37. Act Five: Part Four

The rain refused to relent.

Hans offered to put an invisible shield over the two of them again, and this time Anna didn’t raise a fuss. The faster they got back the castle, the better.

They spent the rest of the trip in silence. Anna kept her eyes blankly focused on the road, on the castle walls as they began to loom higher and higher. When they reached the entrance hall, Hans disappeared through a pair of side doors while servants stepped forward to take Anna’s drenched cloak. With gentle tugs and pushes, they politely herded her off the main carpet—Anna belatedly realized she’d been dripping mud and water on it.

It wasn’t until they had her upstairs with a hot bath drawn and Anna was submerged, sitting alone in silence, that the full weight of what had just happened—of what Hans had done, of what she’d done _back_ —crashed into her.

Her fingers gripped the sides of the porcelain tub. She struggled to breathe.

Everything was fine.

Totally fine.

What’d happened beneath the tree, it had just been part of the plan. And like… hormones or something. Fluke occurrence. Product of the moment. That and Hans _was_ attractive, physically if not personality-wise, so it only made sense that she would’ve followed his lead. Because that was all it’d been. Following his lead.

Anna groaned, covering her eyes as she sunk lower into the bath.

She remained like that until there was a knock at the door—her maid. The woman entered with Anna’s permission, set out some outfits next to the vanity, and then left. Anna still didn’t move until the water started to cool. Finally, she scrubbed the mud off as best as possible, toweled herself dry, and surveyed her clothing options. Two had been laid out: a casual pajama-like dress and a fancy dinner one. They marked a clear choice—hide away for the rest of the day or parade straight back out.

Anna reaches for the casual one first. Her chest felt too skitterish, her head off kilter for another confrontation. There was no way she could go to dinner the way she was. She had no idea what she’d say, no idea what _he’d_ say.

But at the same time…

She paused with her hand on the smooth cotton.

If Anna didn’t face him tonight, she’d just have to face him tomorrow. And doing so would just make that confrontation even harder tomorrow. It was best to face him now and… and she would follow his lead. If Hans wanted to ignore what had happened beneath the tree like he’d ignored whatever had happened back in Wallonia, she’d ignore it too, and if not…

Well, it was all part of the plan, right?

Anna forced herself to leave the casual dress where it was and picked up the fancy one.

All according to plan.

* * *

Anna swirled her spoon back and forth through her onion soup. Across from her, Hans was equally quiet, not even looking up from his food. Both of them had washed up, all evidence of their earlier… _fight_ scrubbed away. She frowned; while she’d told herself she’d follow his lead, eating in complete silence for a full hour wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind.

As the servants cleared the soup and brought out the main course, Anna gathered her courage and cleared her throat. The noise echoed around the large dining hall, bounced around her own head…

Whatever she’d had in mind to say bounced out with it.

But it had drawn Hans’ attention and now he was staring at her.

“I was going to say something…” Anna said lamely, feeling the need to offer _some_ explanation for the noise. “But then I forgot.”

He stared, obviously judging her. “I see.”

And then he went back to his food.

Anna sunk low in her chair. She poked at her food, every little noise she made amplified by the great room.

She had no idea what he could possibly see in her. Silly little Anna—not a queen, no magic powers, constantly saying things that sounded ridiculous to even herself. It had to be some sort of game to him because there was no way he’d actually… no reason he would ever… But even as she tried to convince herself of that, she reminded herself that there’d been a _lot_ of investment from his end for a simple game. Fourteen months she’d spent in Weideland castle. Next week marked fifteen.

Anna couldn’t think of anything else he’d spent that much time on.

Hans suddenly scraped his chair back.

“What are you doing?” Anna asked blankly.

“My apologies,” he said. “It’s that you’re— I should’ve given you the hall for yourself tonight. You need to eat more than I do.”

Anna stared after him in confusion as he began to leave… until it hit her. He’d linked Anna’s lack of appetite to the events of the afternoon. Linked it to his presence here.

“Wait!” Anna called out, stopping him. She heard her voice echoed back to her. “It’s not… you…” She hesitated beneath his stare because, okay, the afternoon _was_ what the silence and awkwardness was from, but it wasn’t responsible for her current lack of appetite. “It’s just… don’t you think this hall is a bit big?”

“The hall,” Hans repeated.

“Yeah,” Anna said, forcing herself to continue. “We’re just two people. This place was built for… what? Twenty? Don’t you feel like you get sucked in by it sometimes?” Hans looked like he had no idea what she was talking about. “Well, I do, so… Isn’t there anything in this castle that’s… you know? Smaller? Just a _little_ less formal?”

Hans frowned. “There are a lot of rooms,” he said slowly. “For just you or…?”

Anna wanted to say, yes, just her, but she knew what she had to do. People were counting on her.

She laced her fingers together in her lap. “Both of us.”

Without taking his eyes off her, Hans snapped his fingers. A butler approached from the servants’ hallway. They whispered together; Hans nodded once, twice, and then servants emerged and gathered their plates. Anna cautiously rose from her seat. As she neared Hans, he held out his arm.

She looked impassively at it.

Part of her wished she could chuck aside her pride and her rage and play fully at getting along, but she was still too angry at him for the town. And maybe that was for the best.

He needed to learn that there were some things he couldn’t just wash over.

Anna lifted her gaze to his face, her eyebrow raising in measured judgment. She caught a flash of disappointment in his eyes, but he lowered his arm.

They left the dining hall, then made their way up a flight of stairs and into a small, cozy room off the east wing. Their plates had already been re-laid out for them on a plain, four-person table next to the window. Outside, the sun had set, the palace lights casting a dark glow over the nearby forest.

Hans stayed at the door, gesturing for Anna to take her seat first. Halfway to the table, she paused.

The table occupied the right half of the room. A crackling fireplace with two high-backed chairs occupied the left. It took Anna less than a second to make her decision—she grabbed her plate and silverware and plopped herself down in one of the fireplace chairs. After another second of deliberation, she brought her feet up onto the cushion, tucking them cozily under herself.

Hans looked on with guarded disapproval. Anna flashed him a defiant smile. She dug into her food, watching him from the corner of her eye. He hesitated at the table, then grabbed his plate and took the chair opposite her.

She continued to watch Hans between bites. He sat with his legs casually half-crossed, right ankle resting on top his other knee, but his back remained stiff. He was staring off to the side, at what seemed to be a random point in the wallpaper. He looked just as stiff in this small room as she’d been in the cavernous dining hall.

 _Good_ , a vindictive part of her thought.

“I take it your family never ate casually like this?” she asked instead.

Hans didn’t immediately answer. He’d moved his gaze to the fireplace as it crackled in the silence.

“How did you guess?” he finally said, with a wry quirk of his lips. “It might’ve been different starting out, but by the time I came around… Thirteen brothers… Dinner was the one place my parents could put a halt to the chaos. Every single night, six o’clock sharp, all of us sat down together. Full table. No exceptions.”

Anna frowned. “That sounds kind of strict.”

Hans shrugged. “It was only dinner.”

It didn’t seem like it, but Anna pressed forward.

“We kind of had that…” she said between chews. “Sort of. Mom and Dad… They would try to have us all sit down, but Elsa got to stay in her room whenever she felt ‘sick.’ ” She paused to do the air quotes. “We managed to sit down at the table about half the time, but other nights—especially when Dad was busy with kingdom stuff and it was just me and Mom—we kept it much more casual, like this.” Her eyes flicked to the ceiling in thought. “I liked the casual.”

“Of course. It was a bandage.”

Anna dropped her eyes, frowning at him.

“Otherwise you would’ve noticed the holes,” he explained.

Anna’s frown curled into a scowl. “At least our family gave each other options,” she muttered. “When we showed up, we all knew we _wanted_ to be there.”

Hans didn’t have a response to that.

They ate the rest of the main course in silence. If the castle servants had any thoughts about the king and his captive ditching the official table, they didn’t voice them. It wasn’t until dessert was brought out that Hans spoke again:

“I’m sorry for earlier,” he said. “At the town.”

Right. The town.

Anna knew she should drop the subject, accept his apology. Dragging out fights would only make them hate each other more, and she needed to be sucking up to him if she wanted to suck out his powers…

But she couldn’t help it.

“And what are you sorry for?” Anna asked, digging her spoon into her crème brûlée.

Hans held his plate with both hands, his spoon and dessert untouched. “I can’t tell them.”

“About your powers? Why not?”

Hans looked up at her, his eyes hollow. “You know why not.”

Anna scrunched her nose as she mentally retraced a few steps based on the events of the day. “So… let me get this straight. No one knows about your powers except me?”

Hans sighed. “You, your sister, and I’m assuming your idiot cousin from the way the two of you gossiped the last time you were here.”

Anna hadn’t told Rapunzel about Hans’ powers, Elsa had… but he didn’t need to know that.

“What about all those Arendelle soldiers you froze to the halls of our throne room?” she asked.

Hans waved his hand dismissively. “I took care of them—” He froze, stopping himself too late. He sighed, running a hand through his bangs. “Memory-wise. I took care of them memory-wise, not—”

“Right,” Anna said with a bitter snort. “Like that’s so much better.”

Hans sat up. “What? You’d rather have me kill them?”

“No! Obviously, I wouldn’t—!” She sucked back an irritated breath. “I’d rather you not do anything at all!”

They glared at each other, perched on the edges of their seats, jaw muscles twitching. Hans didn’t seem willing to take the next blow though, and when he settled back, Anna did too. She returned to her dessert, stabbing it with her spoon.

“What would you have me do?” she heard him ask. “Seriously?”

Anna regarded him warily. “What do you mean?”

“You obviously hate my past, but that’s the one thing I can’t change,” he said calmly. “So, going forward, what would you have me do?

“Seriously?” she asked. He gave her a nonchalant nod. “Okay, then… Very first thing? Tell everyone the truth. Tell everyone about your powers. Tell everyone about the people you murdered to gain this throne.”

They held each other’s gaze.

“And then?” Hans asked.

“And then let them judge you.”

Hans stayed silent, and then finally began his dessert, spoon breaking through the untouched crust.

Anna stared at him in disgust. He was an unrepentant coward of monster. She couldn’t believe she’d kissed him earlier, couldn’t believe she’d thought…

“You won’t do it,” Anna said. “Will you?”

“No,” Hans said without looking up.

Of course.

Hans’ reputation, his image, was his life. He’d probably sacrifice his powers before he voluntarily sacrificed _that_.

“But…” he continued, slowly, and maybe it was Anna’s tiredness bleeding through but for once she couldn’t catch any hint of sarcasm or mockery, “I do promise to keep it under consideration.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat shorter chapter this week. Next week's will be almost twice as long (there wasn't a great place to split them better) and possibly delayed by a day or two because of a road trip I'm taking to see the solar eclipse, but... yeah.
> 
> Either way, see you guys then. Hope you guys enjoyed.


	38. Act Five: Part Five

Over the next week, nothing happened. Anna felt stuck in the middling ground of some armistice. Neither she or Hans had relented on the town issue, but they weren’t outright fighting over it either. They still had meals together—sometimes in the main dining hall, sometimes in the upper room—and indulged in the occasional policy collaboration, but other than that, Anna couldn’t help but feel as if an invisible sheet of formality had slammed down between them.

There was tension there, a string stretching wide and tight between them, but she had no idea how to snap it.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had a couple ideas, actually, she just didn’t have the courage to follow through with any of them.

One morning, she swung into the dining hall for breakfast to find it empty, which wasn’t all _that_ surprising. Figuring Hans was upstairs, she spun on her heel and went to leave.

A low cough made her pause.

The butler was standing by the entrance of the servants’ doors.

“You won’t find him upstairs either,” he informed her. “His majesty apparently decided to skip his morning repast today.”

Anna lifted an eyebrow. “Apparently?”

The butler gave her a stiff, neutral look. Anna interpreted it as his version of a shrug.

Her stomach ached with hunger, but curiosity overruled it. Hans had a meh-attitude towards lunch, she’d learned, but breakfast was a different story. In the month and a half since they’d returned from Corona, he hadn’t missed a single one yet.

She checked his study first, and then a couple other places—the throne room, the entrance hall, the stables—before finding him in the library. He was bent over a reading desk on the far side of the room with wiry old man in a brocade vest and spectacles that took up half his face. They spoke quietly, gesturing over a machine between them. It was the size and shape of a milkcrate with a black horn attached on top.

Hans looked up as she approached. “Anna? What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t at breakfast.”

In the silence that followed, Anna realized she’d just admitted that she’d rather track him down than eat alone.

She coughed to break it.

“Right,” Hans said blinking. “Oh, I haven’t introduced you. Anna, this is Signor Leonardo Provenza.” The old man hobbled forward and eagerly shook Anna’s hand. “He’s a renown inventor in his homeland, here at my invitation. He was just showing off his latest invention… Only a couple parts seem to have been damaged in the ride over. Both of us were trying to fix it up.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “Seems we lost track of time.”

“It’s your infernal northern roads,” Leonardo grumbled. “The Romans started the paving process. Don’t see why you lot haven’t used the thousand years since to complete them.”

“As you can see, he’s very opinionated.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Anna said before she could stop herself.

They shared a brief look, and then Anna stepped forward to more closely examine the machine. The inventor gave her a warning glance. Suddenly hyperaware every single fragile she’d ever broken before, Anna was careful to keep both hands behind her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“A music machine,” Hans said.

“You mean like a music box?”

The inventor snorted. “Ha! _‘Like a music box?’,_ she asks…”

Anna turned to Hans. “I take it that’s a ‘no’?” she drawled.

“Just stand back let the man do his work.”

Anna bit back a grumble. Unfortunately her stomach did it for her.

Hans frowned. “You should go back, get breakfast. I’ll find you when he’s done.”

“I’m fine,” she said with a dismissive wave. “Plus you guys already spent the whole morning on it. How much longer can it take?”

“Very much,” Leonardo muttered, “if I don’t get any silence.”

Anna flushed, then stood back as the inventor got to work. He hovered from part to part like a hummingbird, tinkering and adjusting.

“He didn’t yell at _you_ when you were talking,” she eventually whispered to Hans.

“That’s because, unlike you, I was giving him helpful advice,” he whispered back.

Anna glared at him. She had no idea what Hans was talking about—she could totally be helpful when needed. He flashed her a teasing smile, and her glare slowly softened into a pout. Then she realized how close they were standing.

Anna crossed her arms and retreated with an exaggerated sidestep.

“I think…” Leonardo said, making small grunts as he tightened a piece with his screwturner. “If I just…” He stretched his arm around and adjusted something with his free hand.

There was a click as that something fell into place. A fully orchestrated waltz blared from the black horn, making Anna jump back.

There was a snort beside her.

Anna glared at him suspiciously. “This isn’t more of your magic, is it?” she whispered.

“Hardly,” Hans said. “You’re insulting the work of a genius. No magic, just solid engineering. Something even you could make work if you put your mind to it… Well, a smarter you at least.”

He winced as Anna jabbed her elbow into his side.

“Now, as I’ve already explained to the king,” Leonardo said, “each song is inscribed into a wax cylinder, stored here at the bottom of the machine. This part, here, reads the grooves in the wax and… and…” He broke off as he stifled a large yawn.

“My apologies Signor Provenza,” Hans said, stepping forward. “I’ve been an absolutely terrible host. Do forgive me for dragging you in straight here without providing food or rest first.”

“Not at all, not at all,” Leonardo said as he yawned a second time. Hans began escorting him away. “Just as excited as you were and glad to have it fixed…”

Their voices softened as they moved toward the entrance of the library. Anna hung back, examining the music machine without touching. If there really were wax cylinders somewhere, they weren’t anywhere she could see.

The library doors opened and closed again. When Hans rejoined her, he was alone.

“The servants are seeing Signor Provenza to his room,” he explained. “It was a long journey. He probably won’t be awake again until noon. Perhaps later.”

“Right.” Anna looked back at the machine. “So you invited a world class inventor into your kingdom… Any upcoming diabolical taking-over-the-world schemes I should know about?”

Hans snorted. “Hardly.” He crossed his arms and nodded at the machine. “Improve technology and you improve the kingdom. Provenza has radical new ideas in the fields of optics, agriculture, astronomy… Obviously, most aren’t as solid in practice as they are on paper, but they’re still worth the investment.”

He looked at the machine as he spoke, like he could see through to its inner workings. There was a gleam in his eye. Passion. Anna still didn’t know the full extent of the treason and murder he’d committed to get here, but it was clear he hadn’t committed them just to grab power for power’s sake. He was passionate about ruling. He talked about making the kingdom better, and, unlike half the politicians she’d met in life, they weren’t empty words spoken to bespell the masses.

Anna twitched uncomfortably.

Things would be so much easier if he was just straight out evil.

Hans suddenly turned towards her.

“What?” Anna said.

He held out a hand. “Dance with me.”

Anna stared at him.

“What.”

“No one here. No one to judge.”

Anna frowned. “That’s not what I—”

“There’s a full orchestra playing in a box the size of our hands. Just for us…”

Anna nearly groaned at his over-the-top schmaltziness. “You sure you brought that inventor here for the good of the _kingdom_?” she asked with a lifted eyebrow.

“Just one?

Anna rolled her eyes.

It was stupid, and she took solace in knowing she’d never agree under normal circumstances, but if it helped the plan…

Anna took his hand and let him pull her close. She couldn’t stop her involuntary swallow when he rested a gloved hand, firm but gentle, against her waist. Taking a deep breath, she laid her own atop his shoulder. The orchestra played behind them; there was a slight tinny sound to it if she concentrated. Anna closed her eyes and began to mentally count with the rhythm of the piece.

As he started to move, she let her feet follow. They made slow circles around the library floor.

“What are you thinking?” Hans asked.

Anna kept her eyes closed. “Nothing,” she said.

It was the truth. They spun a couple more times beneath the rise and fall of the violins.

“Lots of things change, but this… This hasn’t, has it?”

Despite the ridiculous vagueness, Anna knew he was talking about Elsa’s coronation, all the way back… over seven years ago now. Another lifetime really. And it was completely ironic and messed up beyond belief, but—

Anna broke into snorting giggles.

“What?” Hans asked.

“Nothing, just—” She cracked open her eyes and stared at his shirt collar as she snorted again. “I just realized, out of all the people I’ve known in my life… I think you’re pretty much in the top three that I’ve known the longest. Feels like some kind of joke, really.”

“Joke?” he said. “Or fate?”

Anna looked up, frowning as she met his eyes. “I thought you didn’t believe in fate.”

“It’s complicated.”

“ _Sure_ it is.”

“Alright, you’ve got me,” Hans admitted. “You’re right. I don’t believe in fate. But can you blame me for wanting to be a romantic?”

Anna searched his face but didn’t see a hint of conscious irony. “Right…” she said slowly. “Because romantics totally lock their fiancés in rooms and leave them to die. So romantic.”

His steps didn’t falter, but there was a stiffness to his voice when he spoke next: “I made it up to you.”

Anna’s eyes narrowed. “Made it up to me. Really. And how’s that?”

“I offered you immortality, didn’t I?”

Her grip on his shoulder tightened and she had to force herself to keep his gaze. “That was…” She swallowed. “That was just another one of your games.”

“No. Everything I said back then, everything I offered… I meant every word of it.”

Anna studied his face, her chest suddenly tight. “Why?”

“Do you really have to ask?” he murmured.

Distantly, Anna heard the waltz soften; whatever clockwork pressure that powered the machine was fading. They’d stopped dancing—Anna couldn’t remember when that had happened—but they hadn’t pulled away. Hans dropped the hand that’d held hers. It ghosted over her shoulder, up towards her cheek, cradling it, and Anna didn’t stop him.

His lips met hers, light and tingling. Anna closed her eyes. Her free hand moved over his chest, the stitching of his vest soft beneath her palm.

Then he drew back. They stared at each other wordlessly.

The next thing Anna knew, his hands were in her hair and he was dragging her back into another kiss. She tugged at his vest, crushing him closer, needing to remove any semblance of space between them. One of his hands moved to the small of her back. As her mouth opened, welcoming him in, Hans gave a light moan and the sound of it sent a rush of heat straight through her.

Anna panicked, jumping back. Her legs wobbled as she fought to reclaim a respectable distance.

“I— I…” Words floated out of her reach, lost in headless spinning. She grasped for some kind of polite excuse as to why she’d pushed him away, _any_ kind of excuse, but nothing came.

Hans suddenly laughed, the sound dark and bitter. Her skin chilled as she watched him run a hand through his hair.

“Should’ve known…” he muttered.

Anna continued to stare at him.

“My brothers were right,” he said, shaking his head. “None of this is real. You’re just playing along with the situation I’ve given you.”

Anna trembled at the humiliating memory. “Well, maybe if you just let me go home—”

Hans groaned. “Not this _again_. You’re not going home.”

“Then stop whining!” Anna snapped. “You can’t have it both ways! You can’t expect me to love you _and_ be your captive! And— And you can’t just order your brothers to respect you. That’s not how it works!”

“Why not?!” he demanded, sounding like a petulant child. Both of them realized it at the same time. He reddened, and then swallowed, face stiffening as his familiar mask settled back in. “Leave me,” he said. “Now.”

Anna shook. She wanted to shout back, wanted to scream, wanted to be just as immature as him.

But she wouldn’t.

Taking a final deep breath, she spun on her heel and stormed out.

* * *

Neither Hans or the inventor were at dinner that night.

She ate alone in silence, occasionally glancing at his empty chair. Afterwards it took every shred of strength not to head straight back to her room. She encouraged herself by reminding herself that she didn’t have to interact with him. She just had to show her face, show him that she wasn’t some cowardly pushover that’d flee and hide at the first sign of an argument.

Anna didn’t bother to knock as she entered his study. Keeping Hans at the edge of her vision, she strode with feigned confidence towards her little office and plopped herself down at her desk. Several stacks of papers still waited for her attention.

She felt rather than heard as he entered. He lingered in the doorway.

“What are you doing here?” he finally asked.

Anna smiled as she continued writing. “Treaties and tax laws aren’t going to read themselves,” she replied with false chipperness.

She heard him inhale, like he was about to protest.

Anna finished writing her current sentence and looked up.

The doorframe was empty. He’d gone back to his own study.

Anna stared blankly at it for a bit, and then returned to her work, immersing herself in it for the next hour. It’d gotten relaxing in a way, helping her pass the time more than any of her craft projects ever had. Weeks and weeks of practice had made her near fluent in legalese, and from Hans’ lessons, she now recognized the logical pitfalls and various wording tricks that would make a policy seem like it helped one way when it actually harmed in another.

Finishing the final page with flourished crosses on her ‘t’s, Anna took a quick breather to shake the cramps out of her hand. When that was done, she doubled-checked her work with an occasional self-affirming nod, then scooped it all up and made her way over to the main room.

She lingered in the doorway like he had. Hans must’ve known she was there, but he didn’t pause in his writing. He remained leaned forward over his desk, the curve of his shoulder blades visible even through his jacket as his fountain pen scratched out letter after letter. Analytical. Cold.

The memory of his moan echoed in her ears.

She squeezed her eyes shut. _Not now._

Forcing herself over to his desk, she held out her work. It felt like some ghost had possessed her body, a stranger using her mouth, as she briefly summarized the various contracts and treaties she’d reviewed that night.

He took them without looking at her. “Thank you.” Then he returned to his own work.

Anna stared at him a moment longer, and then left.

* * *

They settled straight back into uneasy, painful stiffness. The schedule more than anything else was what helped her through it. The inventor finished up his visit and left. Hans remained absent at meals. Anna felt like if she was really cared about the ‘plan’ she should say something about that to him, but what she supposed to do? Ask? After the things he’d said? After the things _she’d_ said?

Her handicrafts felt even more pointless and time-wasting now that she’d gotten involved in kingdom-level things that actually mattered. She stared at a giant knot in the yarn of her latest project, then chucked the whole thing across the room. Sinking back in her chair, she crossed her arms.

She was accomplishing nothing. A great, big, giant pile of nothing.

After a whole month and a half spent on her brilliant ‘plan,’ Hans hated her more than ever. At this point, she probably had a better chance of getting him to give up his immortality for Sitron than her…

Come to think of it, why hadn’t she thought of that from the start? Stab the horse, save the kingdom.

Anna groaned.

Now she was even _sounding_ like him. Stab the horse indeed…

Her stomach grumbled as she stood, but there was still an hour or two before dinner. Perhaps she could get some policy work done beforehand and then call it an early night. She stretched before making her way along the now painfully familiar route to Hans’ study.

She pushed open the door and paused.

And blinked.

The main desk was cleared of all paperwork. Hans leaned against it, his profile to her, as he stared at a giant continental map that’d been hung across several of the bookcases. He was wearing his crown—a rarity in his study, Anna suddenly realized.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Hans waved a gloved hand lazily at the map. “Been awhile since my last expansion. Too long I think. The question is…” He stretched and pushed himself up. “Where should I go next?”

Anna laughed warily. “Very nice. Good joke.” When he didn’t reply, she swallowed. “Hans… you don’t need any more—”

“Oh Anna, it’s not about what I _need_.”

Anna stiffened. “Hans, this isn’t funny.”

“Did I say it was supposed to be?” He stepped towards the map. “What do you think? Borogravia’s army has been on their last legs for decades. Shouldn’t be more than a week’s campaign. Two max. Of course, pleasure that’s easy gained is easy lost…”

“Stop.”

“Or maybe Sovkaya? Imagine the prestige, the challenge… A thousand years and it’s never been conquered. Every campaign always went to hell as soon as winter hit, but I think I have a couple tricks up my sleeve to deal with that, don’t you?”

“I said, _stop_!”

“Not Sovkaya then? Kyprios, perhaps? Or should I be looking in the opposite direction? They say the beaches of Calella are the best on the continent—”

Anna lunged forward with a growl. Hans’ eyes went wide, but Anna reached straight past him. She tore down the map and began shredding it to pieces.

“What are you—? Hey, you can’t do that!”

Anna ignored him and kept tearing. She made one particularly satisfying rip straight down the center of Weideland. Hans tried to grab the map from her but only succeeded in completing the tear.

Holding both pieces, he glared at her.

“It won’t make you happy, you know,” Anna said.

“Psychologist now, are we?”

“Your brothers might’ve been wrong about me, but they were right about you. You keep grabbing kingdoms and kingdoms, but what’s the point?”

“What’s the point?” He looked genuinely confused. “The point is they’re mine.”

“And have they made you happy?”

Hans scoffed. “You don’t know anything.”

“Oh, I don’t, do I?” Anna said, sweeping a hand to her chest as she blinked her lashes. “Poor, stupid Anna who knows nothing. Let’s see. I know you’re an insufferable brat who’s always blamed all his problems on the world around him, who thinks he’s owed _sooo_ much just because he’s _sooo_ smart. I know you always dismiss all your brothers as stupid and unimportant, but then you go running straight to them for validation the first chance you get. Oh, and this whole kingdom grabbing, god-emperor thing? I know it’s just your way of filling up the great big empty hole of nothingness inside of you because that is all that you are! You’re just filled with noth—!”

Hans pushed her into a bookcase and shut her up with a kiss.

There was nothing gentle about it, his teeth clashing against hers. Anna burned white-hot with rage herself. Book spines dug into her back and as his grip on her tightened painfully, she pushed back. One hand buried itself in his hair and pulled, knocking his crown to the floor in the process. The other reached around, clawing into his back like she could reach through his chest and yank his heart out that way.

Hans’ mouth dropped, peppering rough kisses down past her neck. There was a brush of teeth against her neck, the slightest pressure of a bite and Anna gasped.

He paused at the sound. His touch softened, but he didn’t loosen his hold, didn’t raise his head from her neck.

“Please…” he begged, his breath hot and ragged.

Anna’s head fell back. She stared at the ceiling, mind blank and legs shaking. If he let go of her right now, she didn’t know whether or not she’d be able to keep herself up. She tried to piece together her plan again, or any plan, or any… _anything_. She couldn’t keep  pushing him away, but couldn’t just let him use her and lose her either. She needed—

Anna looked down at the torn map, half-curled and half-ripped on the floor.

“Marry me,” she blurted out.

Hans pulled his head back and stared at her. “…what?”

Anna drew in a shaky breath as she gathered her crumbs of confidence. She’d suddenly reached the top of some hill and could see the path she needed to take again, stretching out far into the distance. “You want me?” she said. “Marry me.”

“Who said I wanted you?”

Anna stared at him. His green eyes stared back. He still had her pressed against the bookshelves, their bodies aligned and his face inches from hers. Probably his worst lie in the history of lies.

“You’re mad,” he finally said. “You _hate_ me.”

Anna tried her best at a coy shrug. “I’d get joint control over twelve kingdoms that I’ve pretty much been helping rule for the past month anyway. So… not _too_ mad of an idea, I think.”

She waited for his response. The race of her heartbeat betrayed the relative calm on her face; they were still pressed so close together, he had to have been able to hear it, to _feel_ it.

The silence dragged on.

And then Hans scoffed.

A pit dropped in her stomach.

Hans pulled away and Anna felt herself gripping at the bookshelves behind her to keep herself from falling. The pit sunk more and more as he walked towards the door.

Anna’s face, her entire body, burned in regret. She should’ve known he’d never—

Hans stopped.

He paused, then turned back, a cool smirk on his face. “I accept.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's a week late due to a roadtrip I took for the eclipse, so sorry not sorry about that. (Promised a couple of you guys a picture in the comments, so [here it is](http://i.imgur.com/WbxEgZ6.png).)


	39. Act Five: Part Six

Anna fiddled with her engagement ring, watching the servants as they staged various pots and garlands of flowers around the cathedral. Her chest went hollow as she looked at the altar. It went beyond hollow. Something crazy was ricocheting inside her and there was no way to slow it down, no way to jump off the runaway carriage that she’d whipped into motion.

It was going to be a short engagement as far as engagements went. Two months. A June wedding, just as she’d always wanted. The date was one of the only decisions Anna had bothered making. It was all too easy to stand back and let professionals whip everything else into shape, choosing ribbon colors and floral arrangements and courses for the inevitable feast that’d come afterwards.

As for the engagement itself, the less Anna thought about it, the better. She’d lost count of the number of kisses stolen in various hallways, before dinner, after dinner… Kisses she shouldn’t have been enjoying as much as she was. At least they hadn’t spilled any more inkwells across Hans’ desk since the last time.

Anna flushed at the memory, the drafty cathedral suddenly several degrees warmer.

The arguments were still there, bitten back, of course, lurking beneath the surface. They danced and flitted around each other like they were both trying at playing a child’s perfect game of dollhouse.

Anna twisted her ring up over her knuckle and back down again. She had no idea whether it was physical proof of his love. She’d basically dared Hans into the engagement, but it wasn’t like she had any better way of judging his feelings… short of skipping straight to the killing herself part.

She forced herself to stop fiddling and made her way around the outskirts of the pews. Hans was towards the back of the cathedral, in deep discussion with arch-bishop; Anna drew an imaginary line between them, separating the holy from the unholy. As if sensing her gaze, he looked her way. Anna tried to pretend she hadn’t been staring, but it was too late. Anna stayed still as he approached.

Hans kept his hands locked behind his back as he took his place by her side and surveyed the cathedral in silence.

“Everything to your satisfaction?” he asked.

Anna shrugged. “I guess.”

Hans’ eyes swept sideways at her. An eyebrow lifted. “What is it?”

Anna tried to think of a good lie and failed. “The flowers look nice,” she eventually mumbled, needing to deflect to _something_. “Are they from Willas Garland’s fields?”

“They are. And at half cost. His insistence.”

Anna found herself automatically nodding. Her gaze moved from the flowers to the empty pews. Traditionally the groom’s invitees sat on one side while the bride’s took the other. Anna had no idea how the ratios would end up the day of the ceremony… other than inevitably lopsided one way or another. Of course, it didn’t matter how many people arrived from Arendelle (assuming Hans allowed anyone to come at all) because Elsa and Kristoff wouldn’t be among them. Anna wasn’t even sure she wanted them here even if they _could_ come… Elsa talking about and accepting her plan when it’d been just words was one thing, having her see it physically play out was another.

And Kristoff…

Did getting married to someone else count as cheating?

Anna shuddered. She needed to get her mind off of that.

“So are your brothers coming?” she asked Hans.

He went stiff. “Haven’t decided,” he said lightly. He rearranged his hands behind his back. “I invited your cousin though.”

Anna snapped her head towards him. “What?”

Hans frowned. “Rapunzel. Your cousin. I thought you’d like that.”

“Oh. Right…”

Rapunzel by herself was fine. However, if Elsa tagged along as a disguised servant, the whole chapel would be submerged in the latest June blizzard before they reached the “I do”s.

“What’s wrong?” Hans asked.

“Nothing.”

Anna avoided his eyes. Around the cathedral, servants measured the spaces between columns in order to prepare the right lengths of ribbons or banners or garlands or whatever. Anna knew she probably should’ve involved herself in more than just the picking of the date—weren’t brides supposed to be obsessed in planning every last detail?—but every time she was shown more than three different sample bouquets at the same time, her head spun. Somehow hardcore tax laws had become the easy, stabilizing stress relief in her life.

“Look,” Hans said, his face distantly neutral from the corner of her eye. “If you don’t want to go through with this, all you need to say…”

“That’s not it.”

“Anna.” At her silence, he grabbed her hands and she reluctantly looked at him. “Do you want to marry me?”

Her lips quirked up in a thin smile. “I’m the one who asked you, didn’t I?” A narrow truth. “Do you want to marry _me_?”

Hans’ gaze bore into her own. “Yes,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He lifted her hand and kissed it, leaving tingles across the back. Anna closed her eyes, wishing she felt nothing but disgust instead of… whatever this was.

Disgust would’ve been easier to handle.

* * *

Anna stood stiff in the doorway of Weideland’s entrance hall.

Two days until the wedding. Half of the guests had already arrived; the other half would be there by the end of tomorrow. Anna was spending her time avoiding most of them. From the few nobles she’d accidentally run into, it was like the Wallonian ball again times a thousand. Sure, they smiled and congratulated her, the ladies oohing and aahing over her engagement ring, but Anna could see the truth in their eyes. They thought she was a prisoner. That she’d been tricked into it somehow or given some kind of Scarpia Ultimatum…

The only reason she wasn’t in her room right now, hiding from the world was—

A carriage pulled into the courtyard with a familiar logo emblazoned on its side. Before it even managed to come to a stop, the doors pushed open and Rapunzel leapt out.

“Anna!” her cousin yelled, rushing up the stairs and pulling her into a hug. “Is it really true?! Are you really—?”

Anna stepped back and raised her ring-clad finger in silent answer.

Rapunzel gasped, clasping both hands to her mouth. “Oh my God.” Her eyes widened. “I mean, not ‘oh my God’ terrible, but just ‘oh my God’ as in ‘oh my God’ because oh my God…” She stared at the ring a bit more before returning her gaze to Anna’s face. “And you? Are you…?”

Anna had no idea how her cousin intended to end that sentence, so she had no idea how to answer it. “I’m marrying my mortal— well, immortal enemy, so you know…” Anna shrugged. “Just feeling the usual emotions that come packaged with that.”

“Right,” Rapunzel said.

She frowned as she looked back at her carriage. Eugene was hanging back next to the coachman. Beside them stood a plain-looking maidservant, her face stiff and emotionless.

Anna swallowed. “Is that…?”

Rapunzel nodded.

The blood drained from Anna’s face. “She shouldn’t have come. It’s not safe.”

“Anna, you know she couldn’t _not_ come.”

Anna looked at the coachman. “And… And Kristoff?”

Rapunzel shook her head, and the relief that poured through Anna nearly made her knees shake. “We managed to convince him to stay behind,” her cousin said. “Didn’t want an attempted stabbing at the altar.”

Anna felt herself nod. She stared between Rapunzel and the seemingly ordinary maidservant. She wanted— she _needed_ to talk earnestly while she still could, but it was too open, too public here. Unfortunately dragging Rapunzel straight up to her room without going through all the proper welcomes would be too suspicious, unless…

An idea hit her.

It must’ve shown in her face because Rapunzel’s mouth twisted. “What?”

Anna shone with false brightness. “Want to see my wedding dress?”

* * *

The bedroom door closed behind her, and Anna breathed a sigh of relief. “We’re safe now.”

“Safe,” Elsa said flatly, dropping all pretense of being a meek maidservant. “Are you even listening to yourself? We’re in Hans’ castle. _Nowhere’s_ safe. ” Her sister’s voice sounded strange coming from the plain disguise; if Anna peered hard enough, she could see a glint of emerald earrings behind strands of brown hair. “I’m glad I came when I did. This ends now.”

Anna made a noise of protest. “You signed off on this! You knew this was going to happen!”

Apparently realizing the conversation had moved above and beyond her, Rapunzel skirted around the two sisters and began to examine Anna’s latest needlework.

“I didn’t sign off on anything,” Elsa said. “I let you attempt— That doesn’t matter. Whatever I had in mind, it wasn’t _this_.”

Anna laughed. “What did you think would happen? If you write out the steps to getting someone to love you, I think marriage is pretty high up there on that list.”

Elsa rubbed her temples as she let out a groan. “For normal people, maybe, but this is Hans. Marriage doesn’t mean anything to him. Anna, he murdered his last wife. He tried to murder _you_.”

Anna gave an uncomfortable shrug. “We’ve gotten past that. He wouldn’t try to kill me anymore.”

“You don’t _know_ that,” Elsa said. At Anna’s silence, she took a deep breath. “The only reason he’s doing this…” She glanced at the ceiling. “The only reason he’s doing this is to get you into his bed.”

Anna picked at her engagement ring. Elsa’s words were starting to itch beneath her skin, but Anna refused to admit that. “That’s not true,” she muttered. At Elsa’s dismissive scoff, she blurted out: “I mean, he wouldn’t have to marry me to do that.”

Rapunzel started coughing as Elsa went red. The room chilled.

“That’s not what I meant!” Anna quickly said. “I just— He’s a god you know, so it’s not like he has to make any agreements or wait for me to say ‘yes’ if he really wanted something.”

“Anna…”

“And this is different from Princess Josephine,” she continued. “I mean, it’s even different from him and me the last time we were engaged. He doesn’t gain anything from marrying me this time. No extra power, no extra land…”

“He humiliates me,” Elsa said.

Anna stared at her sister. Something about the quiet, confident way she’d said it stung. “Not everything has to be about you.”

Elsa blinked. “About me?” She reached for Anna’s arm, but Anna took a step back. “Is that what you think this is about? Which one of us Hans wants to destroy more? This isn’t a game!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Anna snapped. “You don’t know the first thing about what I’ve dealt with this past year!”

“No, I don’t. And that’s just part of the problem! You’ve been trapped here, wrapped up in his mind games for so long, that you don’t understand how _crazy_ you sound!”

“I’m not crazy!” Anna shouted.

There was a knock at the door, and they both jumped.

“Princess Anna?” her maid asked through the door. “Everything all right?”

She and Elsa stepped back as the young woman entered the room.

“Yes,” Anna said, slapping on her fake smile. “Yes, of course.”

The maid looked between the three of them with a slight frown. “His Majesty wanted to know whether you want to sit together or at opposite ends of the table for dinner tonight.”

“Oh…” Anna said. Together would’ve probably been easier—she’d able to use Hans as a shield against prying questions; they always seemed to stick to her while completely glancing off him—but she could feel herself being judged by both Rapunzel and Elsa. “Apart, I think, is better,” she slowly said. A better thought struck. “Tell him we can personally entertain a greater number of guests that way.”

The maid nodded and exited, leaving a calming silence in her wake. They waited a bit in case she came back.

“So that’s it?” Elsa finally said. “The second you marry Hans, he’ll fall magically in love and be willing to die for you?”

“Of course not!” Anna hissed, careful to keep her voice low. “I’m not _that_ naive.” She waved a dismissive, explanatory hand. “It’s going to be a gradual thing.”

“How gradual?”

Anna shrugged. It wasn’t like falling in love came with attached milemarkers and calendar-based deadlines.

Elsa groaned. “Marriage isn’t something you can just snap your fingers and undo, you know.”

“I _do_ know…” Anna said. “But, I mean, that’s why divorce is a thing, right? And once this is over, I’m sure everyone will understand why I did it.”

“Anna, I’m not talking about the marriage itself, I’m talking about…” Elsa closed her eyes. “The longer this deception takes, the higher the chance you’re going to have to live with the… permanent consequences.”

“What permanent consequen—?” Her mind went blank with realization. Her hand swept to her stomach. “Oh.”

“Oh?!”

Anna reddened. “It’s not going to get… that far.”

“ _Christ…_ ”

Anna swallowed, desperate to regain control of the conversation and her rising anger. She wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought this all through; she’d just… consciously or subconsciously ignored some of the details. “Look, we tried doing it your way,” Anna said. “That ended, in case you don’t remember, with Arendelle in ruins, you on the run, and me taken hostage. Now we do it my way.”

Elsa was silent.

“You’re either behind me or you’re not,” Anna said. Her eyes swept up and down her sister’s brown-clad form. “Did you bring the poison?”

Still silent.

Behind them, Rapunzel cleared her throat. “Elsa… I know it’s not… none of us would be choosing this if there was another way,” she said as she approached. “Your sister knows what she’s doing.”

Elsa glared at both of them. After a long, tense period, she dug into the bodice of her dress and withdrew a small necklace with a half-dozen dangling amethysts. She held it out, but otherwise didn’t move.

Rapunzel coughed. “The second amethyst from the right is hollow and detaches from the metal clasp if you pull hard enough,” she explained. “We figured this was the best way to store it since you can keep it around wherever until… well, until you need it. Once you take it, you’ll have about half an hour to reverse it.”

Elsa clutched onto the necklace, fingers white around the metal.

Anna held her hand out. “Elsa… please. _Trust_ me.”

Elsa stared at Anna, throat trembling as she swallowed. Finally, she squeezed her eyes shut. Her fingers released and the poison dropped into Anna’s hands.

* * *

The cathedral’s antechamber was barren and, with the exception of Anna and her whispering maidservants, completely empty. Anna paced back and forth in small circle despite their small protests, trying to not to stumble over the train of her dress. There was no one beside her to give her away or give her calm, assuring advice. One of Hans’ brothers, Otto, had gently offered; he was technically old enough to be her father—albeit a youngish father—and probably the nicest egg in the ginger egg carton. It probably said something to the state of Anna’s mind that for one brief second, she’d been halfway tempted. Then she’d thankfully returned to her senses.

As Anna looped around for another pacing circle, one of the cathedral attendants who’d been watching the interior proceedings through a small hollow suddenly nodded. Anna froze in her tracks.

The maidservants fluttered around her, making last second adjustments to her hair, her veil, her bodice, everything. Then they retreated behind her.

Anna sucked in a tight breath as the doors were pulled open. The cathedral was packed, not with relatives and neighbors, but all sorts of foreign and domestic dignitaries. Or were they _all_ domestic now that they were united beneath the same flag? Anna couldn’t logic out the right answer to that as all eyes turned towards her.

And continued to stay on her.

Her mind went blank. Music was playing somewhere, distant and as if from memory.

She heard an echoing cough.

Right, walking. That was a thing she should be doing.

Anna forced her feet forward. Walking in a straight line suddenly seemed impossible compared to her earlier paced circles. She kept her eyes forward as she proceeded down the aisle. If she caught sight of Elsa, of the stranger’s face she knew was Elsa, she’d break and run for sure. Far ahead, Hans waited at the altar. He looked like perfection itself, wearing a deep blue jacket with a light cream sash—the royal colors of Weideland. Anna tried to read his face and for the first time in months she realized she couldn’t. The feeling unsettled her; she’d unconsciously gotten used to sifting out the meaning in every tiny lip twitch, every lift of an eyebrow…

She took her place next to him and stared down at his hands—gloved as usual—as he held them out. Anna stiffly threaded her fingers through his, kept them together at waist level.

With one last fermatta, the music faded.

It left a moment of cavernous silence, and Anna shivered despite herself.

She instantly felt a gentle squeeze.

Hans.

She looked up at him. His eyes were soft in his otherwise emotionless face.

“It’s not too late,” he whispered. He gave a quick glance at their audience. “You want to run? Run. I’ll take the fallout. Shake my fist and shout to the ceilings that my dastardly plans of corrupting you were foiled.”

Anna gave a small snort despite herself. For a second, she was able to imagine a world where this was all okay—no ulterior motives, just two people in love, the way a wedding should be—and if she concentrated hard enough, she could place herself in that world. She squeezed his hands back to let him know she wasn’t going anywhere and was rewarded with a fleeting quirk of a smile.

The arch-bishop began the ceremony, a low droning that Anna only understood because she’d asked for a copy of the text in place of a full rehearsal. Her senses detached themselves from the proceeding, anchoring themselves instead in the way that Hans’ eyes held hers. She heard herself echoing the vows. The words “I do” eventually spilled quick and cursory from her lips, and her body barely registered the kiss—a forgettable light peck compared to the ones they’d shared so far. There was a waterfall echo of clapping so loud and lasting that she could barely hear the bishop as he proceeded to the second half of the ceremony.

The half Hans had insisted on.

Anna remained still with Hans’ fingers around her own as the bishop chanted on and on in ancient Latin. After what felt like forever, a circular weight pressed down upon the top of her hair.

“All hail Her Majesty, Queen Anna,” the bishop called out. Hans released her right hand, and she turned to face the congregation, chest tight and knees shaking. “Protector of Weideland and the Twelve Kingdoms. First of her name.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm keeping this rated T because of Disney, so no explicit wedding night scene from me. Y'all can go off and write your own though if you so desire.


	40. Act Five: Part Seven

The world was warm and soft and Anna didn’t want to wake up quite yet. She tried to roll over and bury head under the pillow like usual, grab an extra twenty minutes of so sleep, but was stopped by a heavy arm around her waist. She frowned, eyes squeezed shut, as consciousness slowly trickled in.

Then it all dumped over her like a cold waterfall.

Anna sat up with a sharp inhale of breath. The thick covers fell to her waist, and there was a small moan of annoyance as the arm fell with them. Anna followed the arm to its shoulder, to a neck, to Hans, sleeping beside her, sleeping _naked_ beside her because—

Oh God.

She was officially the queen.

She had officially…

Memories of the previous night rushed back. Anna closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. They weren’t calming breaths though. Oddly enough, she was already calm, or… at least a lot more calm than she would’ve thought, given the circumstances. For all the bounds of proper princess behavior that she and Kristoff had pushed, they’d never— well, suffice to say this was the first time she’d woken up with someone, _anyone_ in bed next to her since her innocence, giggling childhood sleepovers with Elsa.

Anna pulled the covers tighter to her waist. She felt a twinge of guilt… mostly at the absence _of_ guilt.

Beside her, Hans remained asleep, stomach pressed against the bed, oblivious to her movements. Her eyes traced the bare lines of his shoulder blades, of his profile where it laid sideways against one of the half dozen pillows. With his own eyes shut and lips slightly parted, he looked innocent. In the soft morning light, she could almost believe it.

Despite it being June, there was still a chill this early in the morning. Anna pushed herself carefully out of bed and slunk over to a dressing gown that’d been laid out on top a nearby chair. A servant must’ve placed it there. Anna didn’t know how she felt about servants waltzing in and out of the bedroom while she’d— while _they’d_ been asleep. It was… She’d been completely fine with the technical invasion of privacy before—had grown up with it, really—but that’d been back in a world full of boring nothing-to-hide-here, totally-buttoned-up-nightgowns-to-bed nights.

She’d have to have a talk about that with Hans—she was more than capable of laying out her own clothes if needed—but for now she took the dressing gown and shrugged it on.

As her fingers laced up the front, Anna took in the rest of the room. A large persian rug covered the majority of the floor. The furniture was typical bedroom furniture, intricately carved but hardly ostentatious. Flashes of gold caught her eye: a wall clock here, a candelabra there… but no picture frames. No pictures. Not even a generic one of the countryside.

Saving that insight to ponder later, Anna padded over to a window.

The royal bedroom was on the castle’s uppermost floor. She could see more of the kingdom here than from her previous bedroom. Beyond the forest that’d used to scream of freedom, rose a hint of distant mountains. Well, technically hills. She wasn’t far enough south on the continent to see true mountains, would really have to hit the border of Ostenberg before—

The realization hit her with a strange, tingling rush.

Ostenberg was hers. Those mountains were hers. The hills and the forest and the meadow stretching towards them are all hers.

As quickly as they blossomed, Anna reined the feelings back. Sure… on _paper_ , they were legally hers. In fun world of reality, she only had whatever powers and dominion she had until Hans decided to off her.

Of course, Anna couldn’t blame Hans anymore if her death factored somewhere in his distant plans.

It factored in hers too.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Anna jumped. She hadn’t noticed him wake up.

Hans came up behind her and tapped on the glass at their reflections. “What a fractured pair we make,” he said, resting his chin on the top of her head. Anna didn’t elbow him off. For whatever reason, when Hans outright admitted his madness, it didn’t rankle beneath her skin the way his other taunts did. “Better wear one of your high-necked dresses today.”

Anna blinked in confusion. She stared harder at her reflection, then down at herself. Heat fanned across her cheeks as she took in the small marks peppered across her shoulders and upper chest. Hans’ following chuckle sent chills down her spine and she whirled out of his grip.

“Don’t act like it’s my fault,” he said before she could retreat too far. “As far as I can remember, _you_ were the one who jumped _me_.”

Anna froze, wishing she could just stand there and let the floor swallow her whole because the more she remembered, the more she realized it was true. She’d lost count of the glasses of wine she’d downed during the wedding feast. The whole world had started to— not spin, really, but tilt back and forth definitely. And when they’d finally retreated upstairs, when they’d finally gotten alone, Anna vaguely remembered Hans wanting to talk about something but she hadn’t wanted to talk, hadn’t wanted to even _think_ about feelings and…

Wasn’t there some general who’d once said the best defense was a good offense?

It’d seemed like a good decision at the time.

She felt hands touch her own, gently prying at her fingers. Anna belatedly realized she’d covered her face. He touched with only light pressure, so Anna was able to keep them stuck where they were. Finally Hans sighed. He laid a soft kiss against the top of her forehead.

“Thank you,” he said.

Anna cracked her fingertips slightly and stared blankly through them. “For what?”

He only smiled at her like she’d just cracked some sort of lame joke, and then drew away. Even after he’d pulled on his own clothes and the door had closed behind him, Anna remained where she was, tugging her dressing gown closer and wondering what the hell she was supposed to do next.

* * *

Anna got her chance to ask that exact question at breakfast.

Both of them were fully dressed. A stillness pressed over the air almost like the previous night, like the entire previous day hadn’t happened, and it would’ve been somewhat easy to pretend it _hadn’t_ if not for the small tiara now encircling her head. The metal was thin, so thin it should’ve been unnoticeable, but even now Anna could feel it pinching, feel it pressing. Did Hans feel the same weight whenever he put it on? Or did it feel as natural as his own hair?

He was wearing it now, and he certainly didn’t _look_ uncomfortable from his spot across the small table. They were taking breakfast in the upper room. Private. Quiet. Anna didn’t know which of the wedding guests had left, which ones were still hanging around, but whoever and however many there were, they’d be using the main dining hall. Anna didn’t want to face them, didn’t know if she _could_ face them… not yet.

“So…” she finally said. “What now?”

Hans paused with his fork halfway to her mouth and looked at her. “The kingdom goes on.”

“R-right…”

Anna went back to eating. She tried to casually chew and swallow even as she felt his eyes on her, felt them ghosting over her skin. Warmth gradually flooded her cheeks. She fidgeted, finding it harder and harder to concentrate. As soon as she managed to finish half her plate, she pushed it forward and scooted her chair back.

“I’m going to lie down for a bit,” she said. “Just a little tired.”

Hans stared at her before slowly lifting an eyebrow.

Anna turned red as she realized the implications of what she’d just said.

“Not like that!” she quickly amended, criss-crossing her hands in front of her. “I’m not _that_ kind of tired and I’m not—! That is—! I didn’t mean—!”

Hans snorted and it was all Anna could do _not_ to groan at the ceiling. She resisted the urge to throw a fork at his still chuckling form and slunk out of the room before she could embarrass herself further.

Outside in the hall, she pressed a hand to her forehead and willed herself to calm. She was doing fine. Just fine. As she made her way back upstairs, a glint of metal caught her eye.

The ring.

Anna lowered her hand and stared at it.

It was plainer than her engagement wedding. Traditional, unassuming… aside from the single, small ruby set deep into its center. Anna ran a finger over its surface. She could barely feel the gem’s presence, but it was there. Like a drop of blood. Anna tightened her hand into a fist, clutched it close to her chest, and shivered.

At last made it to her bedroom. She pushed open the door—

And froze.

It was still her bedroom—all its basic, original furniture was still in place—but all her crafts and books and papers and pictures were gone. She stared at the emptiness, mind placing faint images in the various places where it couldn’t accept they were gone until it hit her.

Right.

She was the queen.

Her bedroom was in the royal suite now.

Anna silently closed the door and pushed herself up two more flights of stairs.

The royal suite took up the sixth floor of the castle. Since there were no servants about, Anna took her time poking her nose into its various rooms. There was a study furnished identical to the one Hans used downstairs, but only a couple papers were scattered across this one’s desk compared to the colossal tide that flooded the other. There were closets, a south-facing reading room…

Anna eventually found her possessions tastefully scattered around a small bedroom situated next door to the one she’d woken up in this morning. A heavy oak door was set into its left wall, separating the two. She stared at the visible lock on her side… If she wanted to, she could easily sleep here tonight and all the nights after.

If she wanted to.

And she should want to.

Anna forced herself to turn away, approached the window, and stared through its glass. It gave her exactly the same view as she’d gotten earlier, except now the sun was directly overhead with shadows, or lack thereof, to match. She leaned forward, bracing her elbows against the sill as her hands wrapped around the back of her neck and ran up through her hair.

What was she doing?

It’d all seemed rather clear getting to this point: Seduce Hans. Become queen.

Well, mission accomplished.

Ring acquired.

But now what? Did Hans love her? More importantly, would he give up his immortality if she grabbed Elsa’s necklace and poisoned herself right now?

The answer weighed heavy and sour in the pit of her stomach.

Probably not.

He’d probably snort and say something emotionless and dismissive as usual.

Anna stepped back from the window and slumped down on the bed, its covers crisp and taught and tucked in. She needed some way to “test” Hans’ feelings in small increments, see how far she could get him to work against his own interests in ways that _wouldn’t_ end with her immediate death. The easiest test, of course, would be getting him to let her return to Arendelle.

Her nose twisted as she frowned.

She couldn’t just launch ahead and ask him _that_ though; he’d think she’d only married him for passport bestowing purposes, think that she had ulterior motives… which she _did_ , but he wasn’t allowed to know that.

No, she would have to start the next phase of her plans—if she could even call them “plans” anymore—with something… light.

* * *

“A festival?” Hans asked.

The sun was nearly set, casting a reddish-glow over the downstairs study. Hans was leaned over his desk as usual, albeit with the top two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, exposing his throat. Anna ignored that.

“Yep,” she said, nodding as she kept her hands behind her back. “Summer’s just starting, and I figured what better way to celebrate? I was thinking we could make it an international one with all the kingdoms you’ve conq—”

Anna paused, unsure whether Hans would be offended or nonchalant over her blunt choice of words.

“It’s okay,” Hans said with a smile. “You can say the ‘c’ word.”

“I’m not hearing a ‘no.’”

Hans sighed. “Why do you want a festival? Is it for the guests? We just had the wedding. Half of them are still here.”

Anna sighed back. “I’m not saying we’d hold it _tomorrow_ ,” she said, letting a pout fall across her lips. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“It’ll be an economic mess.”

Her cue.

“I’ve thought about that,” she said brightly, whipping out her stack of hidden papers from behind her back. “So imagine this. We promote it as not a money-draining festival, but as a mercantile opportunity. We push vendors, push their sales, and then have the taxes from their increased revenues go towards the operating costs.” She passed the papers over to Hans. “We could even pick out a couple of the bigger businesses, say… Nordvale Harvest and Garland’s flowers, and offer them the chance to pay a certain amount to become the official wine and flower providers of the festival. A quid-pro-quo kind of thing.”

“That… could actually work,” he said as he flipped through her sheets. He paused at one, and then looked up at her. “Did you do all this over lunch?”

Anna nodded.

“It’s good.” He tapped the papers into order and returned them to Anna before leaning back in his chair. “Pitch it to the royal treasurer. If he approves it, you’re good to go.”

Anna stared at him.

“What?”

So far each and every one of her proposals—small or large—had been pitched directly through Hans himself.

“You’re the queen,” he said simply, lacing his fingers behind his neck. “It’s within your capabilities.”

“R-right,” Anna said. She swallowed, hands gripping tighter around her papers as she gathered her confidence. Her small crown pressed down against her head. “Right.”


	41. Act Five: Part Eight

The treasury approved Anna’s proposal.

An official planning committee was drafted soon after, dates were set for the solstice, Nordvale Harvest and Garland agreed to be sponsors, and just like that her little creation was off and spinning with both steam and the constant threat of running out of control if she fell too far behind.

As the days passed and Anna reviewed budget statements and work proposals, a light, off-balancing feeling nagged at her. One week in and she’d already put in ten times the effort that she had for her own wedding. She didn’t have the time or energy to question it though. Anna crammed her schedule with committee meetings, resolving hundreds of disagreements over this and that and whether they should go here or there or every place in between.

For an event that would only last three days, there was a _ridiculous_ amount of planning involved. Every single detail, regardless of size or importance, had someone harboring some grand opinion about it.

Anna found herself stumbling into dinner with a headache most nights, Hans greeting her with a smirk as if to say, _I told you so._ She’d always return it with a soft glower of her own. Still, her new husband humored her endeavors. He offered to be a second pair of eyes for any of her incoming proposals, and the instant she ever asked, he’d be at her side with a cool hand against her temples, headache fading within seconds.

Being married to a god had its perks.

The only time she hit any sort of limit was the night she tried to take her paperwork to bed. Anna made it a paragraph in before Hans extinguished the lights with a snap of his fingers. The next thing she knew, one hand was plucking the documents out of her grasp while the other gently pushed her down against the pillows.

After a minute of half-hearted grumbling beneath his ministrations, Anna was forced to admit he had a point about maintaining the work-bedside divide.

A week before the festival, the first of the ware-laden wagons and ships began to arrive. A garden of tents budded up in the courtyards and surrounding fields of the nearby town.

Anna wasn’t the personal overseer for any of the set-up—that’s what delegation was for—but she wandered through the streets all the same. One day as the twelfth person called her out by name in as many minutes, Anna abruptly realized that she was being Hans.

This was what Hans was all about.

It was the look of the thing. Making herself available. The people that approached her weren’t even seeking answers half the time, they just wanted an authoritative sounding board to help confirm their own. And somehow, Anna thought as she nodded along to the Captain of the Market Guard’s suggestions, there was more power in _that_ than there would’ve been if she’d been personally dictating everything herself.

A year ago… even half a year ago, she would’ve been thrilled—or at least semi-triumphant—to have peeled back another secret layer of Hans’ inner workings. Just one more discovery. One more potential weakness.

But now, as she waved goodbye to the man and was left with a satisfied executive-ish tingling, Anna wasn’t sure if she was happy with the discovery or not.

* * *

The assistant chamberlain dabbed the sweat off his head. “It’s the Summershire delegation, Your Majesty,” he said. “The duchess claims to have a delicate constitution, says the southern rooms have too much direct sun exposure and is requesting another room.”

Anna forced herself to take a deep breath. It was the first morning of the festival. A constant buzz of voices filled the air on both sides of the official organizer’s tent, inside and out. The town was already packed and more guests were arriving every hour. The chaos made her head spin.

“I see. Do you have the list of delegations arranged to room in the northern wing that haven’t arrived yet?”

The chamberlain nodded and began listing names and countries. Anna stopped him halfway through.

“Switch them with the Count of Lower Ostenberg,” she said. “He has three kids who all love—”

“Anna!” shouted a familiar voice.

Anna turned to see Rapunzel pushing her way through the entrance of the organizer’s tent. They crushed each other into a quick hug.

“I’d say it’s been awhile,” Rapunzel said. “But it feels like yesterday.”

Anna shook her head as a smile crept over her face. “It does,” she said. “But don’t get _too_ used to constant visits. Or… maybe do.” She nodded at the crowded tent. “Festival’s going pretty well, I think. Should be able to plan whatever I want after this.”

“Right,” Rapunzel said, smiling back. The expression didn’t quite reach her eyes.

The chamberlain coughed. “I’ll return if there are further complications,” he said. “However, assuming Count Ostenberg is indeed fine with the accommodations—”

“He will be,” Anna assured.

“Then I’ll leave you to the privacy of your relations.” The chamberlain bowed. “Your Majesty.” And then he left.

Anna turned back to Rapunzel. “Queen stuff,” she said with an awkward shrug.

“About that…” Rapunzel looked around the tent. Despite the miniature mountain ranges of papers and lists the various festival staff were buried beneath, they looked up, giving the two cousins occasional, curious glances. Private, it was not. “Can we walk and talk?”

Anna nodded and gestured towards the tent flaps.

Outside, the world was split between blue sky and green banners. Jubilant crowds thronged down the center of the streets, sweeping hapless passersby towards the heart of the festivities; Anna signaled for Rapunzel to stay to the sides close against the walls of the townhouses and permanent shops. As they passed various music venues and market centers, Anna launched into explanations about the planning that’d gone into each one. Rapunzel nodded and smiled politely enough, but there wasn’t any of her usual excited spark to go along with it.

At least, not until they passed Nordvale Harvest’s wine tent.

“Let’s grab a drink,” Rapunzel said, tugging on her cousin’s elbow.

“A drink? It’s not even noon yet.”

But Rapunzel had already dragged her inside. The noise was deafening—bawdy laughs and drunken shouts. The alcohol had blocked out all remaining shreds of its patrons’ volume control. Behind the central counter, the Nordvale worker smiled as the cousins approached and poured them two glasses of Riesling—on the house. Rapunzel scooped the glasses up and nodded towards a small, two-person table on the left side of the tent.

“How have you been?” Rapunzel asked once they were seated.

Her voice was nearly swallowed by the din, and Anna had to lean forward to hear.

“Good. Why?”

“It’s okay. You can tell me the truth.”

“Still… good.” Anna jerked a thumb towards the entrance. “Are you sure you don’t want to—?”

Rapunzel shook her head. She reached forward and gently pressed at Anna’s shoulder, drawing her even closer over the table. “You say the word,” she whispered, “and we’ll be ready to move.”

Anna stared at her in confusion. “Ready to move what?”

“Our forces, of course.”

“Our… forces?

“Yep. Great idea, the festival. Perfect cover for moving a secret army into place.”

“A secret…” Anna’s mouth gaped open. “But that’s not—!” She mind raced to keep up with what Rapunzel was implying. How could she—? And the festival— Anna didn’t know how to admit to her cousin that her festival was just that. A festival. She blinked, clearing her head. “Wait a second, why are you telling me this? We’re surrounded by— Anyone could hear!”

Rapunzel shrugged. “You’d be surprised. This is probably the most private spot in all of Weideland right now—as Eugene likes to say, best place to hide is in a crowd. Apparently you just have to act normal about it.”

Anna tried again to wrap her head around Rapunzel’s earlier words. “How many?” she finally asked.

“Five thousand men.”

“Five— Five _thousand_?”

“Not much, I know, but we figured a loyal, tactical team was better than a broad strike. Plus we don’t need a full broad strike when we have your sister.”

Anna jerked backwards. “Elsa’s here?” she blurted out, forgetting the need to be quiet. Luckily her words were buried by the surrounding revelry, too enraptured by their own drinks to pay the cousins any mind.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t she be?” Rapunzel took a sniff of her wine and took a sip. “Of course, she’ll be in hiding until you-know-who is de-powered. You have no idea how much we fought to get her to agree and wait for even that. Wants to blast ahead and just go, whoosh! Winter on everything.” Rapunzel rolled her eyes. “Which speaking of the de-powerment, do you have a signal planned for that? We’ll want to move as quickly as possible.”

“No, that’s not— I mean, not yet? I mean…” Anna fought to breathe. Her vision began to fold narrower and narrower in on itself as she scanned the crowd, trying to figure out how many of the people here were ready to overthrow Hans at a moment’s notice. “I— I don’t know.”

The tent seemed to spin.

“Anna?” Rapunzel asked.

“I need some air.”

Abandoning the wine to the table, Anna stumbled out of the tent and straight into one of the festival guards.

“Your Majesty!” he said, straightening to attention. “Are you okay?”

“Yes!” Anna replied quickly. “Just— Just had a little much too drink, too fast and then… you know.” She looped her finger by her head. “But I’m fine now. Really I’m fine.” She smiled at the guard as Rapunzel emerged from the tent. Her cousin’s eyes snapped wide at the sight of the man, but Anna quickly wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “It’s been great catching up, but I have to go check on other parts of the festival. I’ll have a lot more free time tomorrow, so _promise_ you won’t have fun without me until then. Okay?”

Rapunzel stared at her, and then slowly nodded.

“I promise,” she said, apparently getting Anna’s drift.

They hugged goodbye, and Rapunzel reluctantly slunk off. The guard wasn’t as easy to get rid of, but after eight additional reassurances that she was _indeed_ fine, Anna finally straightened her shoulders and managed to walk off without an new, armored duckling tailing her. As soon as he was out of sight, her whole body threatened to collapse.

It was still too crowded though—too many people watching—so Anna forced herself to keep walking.

Her cousin had brought an army to her doorstep.

No… her cousin had brought a _secret_ army to her doorstep. Did that mean Anna had no choice but to rush ahead with the plan? She wasn’t ready to rush ahead with the plan. Not nearly enough time had passed, not nearly enough… _bonds_ had been forged. Sure, three weeks had passed since the wedding but it might’ve well have been three days for all the good it’d done.

But even if Anna told her relatives the truth, told them to call the whole attack off, would they actually listen? Would they stand back and simply ask five thousand soldiers to dissipate back to wherever they’d voluntarily come from? Or would Elsa take matters into her own hands and decide to launch what’d inevitably become a suicide attack?

Anna bit at her thumbnail as the world around her was slowly consumed by visions of Elsa stabbing Hans through the chest before getting stabbed herself, of Elsa rotting away in some magically-sealed dungeon, of Elsa up on the executioner’s block as the citizens of Weideland screamed for her blood, for the death of the ice witch—

A hand latched around Anna’s upper arm, pulling her through a doorway and into a sudden kiss. Anna yelped, shoving ineffectually against her captor’s chest until her mind caught up to her body.

“Hans?” she said breathlessly.

He drew back and gave her a roguish grin. “Sorry, not sorry,” he said before nodding outside. “Just wanted to tell you, amazing work. The treasury’s happy. Guests are happy… Always knew you had it in you.”

Anna ducked her head towards the hay-strewn ground as her cheeks flushed. Halfway through her body, the warm tingles froze.

Five thousand men were here that wanted to see him dead or imprisoned.

“Thank you,” she heard herself say.

His fingers touched against the side of her jaw, tried to lift her head to meet his gaze, but Anna kept her eyes firmly fixed on the floor.

“I know the kinds of stress that come with these events,” he said softly. “Which is why never organize them myself. Of course…” He nuzzled into her hair. “I also know a couple ways to relieve them.”

Anna went pink, her head snapping up. “What? No! It’s the middle of the day!”

“That hasn’t stopped us before.”

Anna glanced around at where he’d pulled her. “We’re in the stables!” she hissed, trying to ignore the way was already looking at her with darkened eyes. She spotted two stablehands out of the corner of her eye. “People will see!”

“Oh, that’s no problem. I can pull a couple horological strings here and there, stop time for an hour…” He lifted an eyebrow. “Or two.”

Anna flushed deeper. “I said, _no_.” She pulled herself from his grip. “Look. I just… this is new to me, and I have a lot on my mind, and… and ‘relieving tension’ is _not_ a solution to anything right now.”

She decided to ignore his sniggers. Her face fell into a pout as she let her gaze trail up from his mouth towards his eyes. Despite her best attempts to read him, all she could see was amusement. Had anything changed for him over the past several months? How much of her situation was still just a game?

Beneath her extended stare, his face shifted, creasing in concern.

“Anna?”

She blinked and took a step back. “The Captain of the Guard wanted to see me,” she lied. “He was worried about the lines for public fountains, whether they’d cause a hazard if an emergency happened.” Better. A half lie. “I told him I’d check on him once the festival started.”

“Then you better go do that,” Hans said. He held out a hand. She hesitantly took it, and he pulled her back towards him with a gentle tug. He brushed a kiss against her forehead. “Take care.”

Anna found herself nodding and stumbling away before she could betray herself.

Rapunzel, Elsa, Hans…

They all had different images of her and she didn’t know what she was supposed to do.

A giant lightning bolt of an idea would’ve been nice. Of course, the problem with lightning bolts was that they only came when they wanted to come. She _could_ wait though, give it a couple hours at least. A couple hours of waiting was better than going ahead with her current solution… which was nothing. And until her totally brilliant idea hit, she’d just have to busy herself with the festival as originally planned.

After a deep breath, Anna began to make her way over to the fountains.

* * *

Anna shuffled up the last of her papers from where they were scattered across the desk in her rarely-used bedroom. She didn’t know why she was even re-reviewing them anymore; at this point, the festival was spinning just fine without her.

Outside, the sun had just set. There were only two days until the solstice, only two days until the sun began its slow creep towards winter.

Anna looked towards the heavy door that led between the two royal bedrooms. It was super late; maybe late enough that she could get to bed and avoid potential talk about how her day had gone.

She’d waited for the lightning bolt all day, and had gotten hit with nothing. Maybe she could convince Hans to summon up a rain storm and climb onto the roof with a bunch of cutlery… Not even the mental image of that was cheering her up now.

With an exhausted sigh, Anna finally pushed herself up, stretched, and then crossed over to the master bedroom.

It was empty.

After a quick poke around, Anna found her husband in the study down the hall—he’d begun to use it over his usual one after the first of the foreign dignitaries had started flocking about the castle. For a man who drank in the praises and attentions of others, he hoarded his privacy about all els—that thin layer porcelain that hid his true self from the rest of the world. Anna leaned casually against the doorway, watching his quill endlessly glide across the current piece of paper.

“Not sure if you’ve heard,” Anna finally said. “But there’s this festival going on right now? Apparently people are celebrating and feasting and, you know, _not_ working themselves to death?”

Hans smiled as he lifted his head. “Oh, so _you’re_ the one offering to relieve tension now?”

Anna flushed and rolled her eyes at the same time. His smiled widened before he plunged straight back into his work. Undeterred, Anna moved behind him; she draped her arms around his neck and rested her chin lightly on his head. She told herself it was the most convenient way to see everything on his desk.

“What are you working on?”

“Something that’s, unfortunately, _not_ fun and games,” he said. “Signor Provenza was right when he visited us this spring. Our roads are a mess. I’m trying to figure out a way to fund a kingdom wide construction initiative without raising taxes. If I can’t, it has to go up before the small council and you know how they just love radical proposals.”

Anna lowered her face into the crook of his neck. “You do know you’re a god,” she said, intertwining her fingers with his. “If it’s really that important for the realm, I’m sure you could blast your way through any small council resistance.”

His hands squeezed arounds hers. “You know I’m not like that,” he said.

Anna swallowed, the movement painful. It hurt because, disturbingly enough, she knew it was the truth.

“I know…”

Hans extracted his right hand from hers and resumed writing, but his sentences were eventually punctuated with huffs of irritation from Anna. He made it one more page before he capped his pen and let her drag him from the room.

* * *

Anna woke up sometime just before dawn. Faint blue light filtered in through the half-curtained windows, growing warmer with each passing minute. Normally she’d roll over and go straight back to bed, but her stomach stopped her—a solid knot of worry.

She had no idea what the hell she was supposed to do. Rapunzel had expectations. Elsa had expectations… Of the two, Anna assumed Rapunzel would be the better one to pull aside and come clean to… She’d just have to work up the courage, confess that the whole festival-being-a-signal-to-mobilize was a massive miscommunication on both their parts. Rapunzel would obviously be disappointed, but she’d understand, and surely she would convey that to the soldiers and then everyone would go home and things would go back to normal.

Anna snorted to herself, hands twisting in the sheets as she stared up at the bedroom canopy.

Normal?

She was laying in bed next to a sociopathic god emperor. She was as far from “normal” as a person could possibly get.

Anna turned onto her side and studied Hans’ face. He was still fast asleep, one arm loosely draped over her waist as usual, keeping her close but not trapped. It was so easy to pretend and forget the outside world existed when it was just the two of them here like this.

Anger suddenly flared inside her before lowering to a firm simmer. It was all _his_ fault that things were so screwed up. If he’d never gone after that tree, if he’d never gone after Arendelle’s throne, if he’d just be happy with her from the beginning, happy with waiting out Elsa’s reign—after all, ten years later, it wasn’t like she’d entertained suitors—happy the ways things were…

Then maybe, just maybe, they could’ve been…

Anna reached up and absentmindedly ran a finger over the side of his cheek, tracing the line of his right sideburn. He mumbled something sleepy under his breath that she couldn’t quite catch, so she nestled closer. As she repeated the movements, his arm tightened around her and he took a deep, unconscious breath in.

“…love you,” he mumbled.

Anna froze.

Her heart pounded heavy in her chest.

She waited for his eyes to snap open, for his lips to tug into a smirk and whisper, _Gotcha_.

But Hans didn’t move, didn’t wake up, didn’t seem to be aware of anything.

Anna replayed the words in her head, trying to determine whether she’d simply misheard them because surely she had to have misheard them because Hans would never— But even as Anna tried to pretend her ears had made a mistake, the syllables were burning their way into her memory. Lodging there. Sticking. Forever.

She wasn’t quite sure why that bothered her the way it did. Until now, Anna thought she would’ve leapt at any hope or sign of her plan even halfway working. Then again hopes and signs weren’t the same as proof, and she needed _proof_ to be a hundred percent confident about even just the thought of poisoning herself.

A slow, sickening feeling churned her stomach as Anna realized she was never going to be a hundred percent confident about anything ever again.

Not even the color of the sky.

Cautiously she drew her hand back and waved it in front of Hans’ face, but he just continued to sleep.

Or maybe he was just pretending to be asleep. She really had no way to tell. If he was pretending, perhaps his confession was all just part of somefuture trap… A trap for what though? Hans had nothing to gain… unless he knew about her plan to de-power him and this was his way of stopping it? But wait, wouldn’t that just do the opposite? Help spur her on? Plus, Hans didn’t know about her plan. He _couldn’t_ know about her plan. If he’d known about her plan, he would’ve never married her.

Or maybe he would’ve seen it as a dangerous thrill and married her anyways.

Anna didn’t know.

She didn’t know anything anymore.

The sheets wrapped tight around her, catching her limbs at every movement, pinning them. Hans’ arm pressed against her lungs, making it hard to breathe. Anna disentangled herself before her body went into full panic mode. Pulling on her dressing gown, she retreated backwards across the room until her shoulders hit the still half-drawn curtains. Her gaze lingered on the bed—on Hans—before a moment longer, and then she turned to the window and tugged the nearest curtain an inch to the side.

The sun had risen without her realizing it. Out in the distance, the first athletes of the field-based competitions were claiming their spots on the dew-soaked grass and stretching. She imagined their jovial grins and careless morning greetings they were shouting out to each other.

Her stomach started to hurt again. She’d have to ask the servants for some medicine before breakfast. Hopefully, the request wouldn’t raise too many questions; everyone knew that the festival was her event. They would expect her to be stressed. It was normal.

Normal.

Her sister had been right this entire time. She was mentally broken beyond repair. She had no idea what normal was, no idea what her life currently was or what it could even _begin_ to be classified as…

Anna’s fingers trembled around the curtains.

Whatever it was, she found herself wanting just one more day to hang onto it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew... chapter a little late this week. Thought it was going to be about 2.4k words. Ended up being 4k.


	42. Act Five: Part Nine

Anna fretted at her vanity, trying to take the pressure off her overthinking brain by twisting her braids into as many complicated shapes as possible.

There was a knock at the door.

She paused, taking a deep breath. “Come in.”

Keeping her eyes on her mirror’s reflection, Anna watched Hans step into the room. She gave him a quick glance just to double check nothing was terribly wrong before returning her attention to a much safer object of focus—i.e. her hair. She fake pouted at one braid’s lack of straightness as her fingers tried to poke and prod it into better position.

“You look perfect,” he said, directly behind her. His lips dusted her cheek moments later.

_…love you_

Anna flushed at the echoing memory. The room was suddenly too warm, her dress too tight. If Hans noticed the sudden race of her heartbeat though, he wasn’t showing it.

“I’m headed out,” he said, gloved hands coming to rest lightly on Anna’s shoulders. “The Summershire delegation invited me to explore the festival with them for the day.”

“Mmm-hmm…” Anna said, careful to keep her eyes on her braids and not his reflection. “And try to debate you seizing land for your cross-kingdom road network?”

“That too. See you at dinner.”

He laid another kiss on her cheek and began to leave.

Anna let him.

She was fine letting him. After all, this was their normal routine on busy days—quick morning check-in, go their separate ways until dinner… Just because today was little bit different, just because Anna’s family had dragged a secret army to his door…

“Actually,” Anna said. “I was thinking—”

Through the mirror she saw Hans stop and turn. She forced herself to face him directly, ignoring the odd discomfort in her chest. She didn’t want Hans to go off by himself. She didn’t want Rapunzel to drag her into a heavy conversation that’d inevitably involve troops and strategies and everything her festival was not. Her head was spinning too much to make serious decisions about stuff like that. She’d make a mistake, and the last thing she wanted—the last thing she _needed_ —was war breaking out by sunset.

After all she’d been through, she deserved just one day for herself, didn’t she? One day to step back and breathe?

Today was her day. Whatever she felt like doing, Anna suddenly decided she was going to do it. The rest of the world was free to come and knock back tomorrow.

“Maybe, just for today…” Anna continued slowly, letting her lips slowly bypass her brain. “We could see the festival together?”

Hans blinked, staring at her. His face finally broke into a soft smile. “I’d like that very much.”

Anna felt herself smiling back. She finished poking in her final hair pins, and then took the arm he proffered. The Summershire delegation met them downstairs in the entrance hall. Behind their polite greetings, Anna caught the wary looks in their eyes. Evaluating her. Evaluating Hans.

No.

The delegation could think whatever they wanted. Anna had decided she wasn’t going to care about other people today. Hunkering down into her new, resolute mindset, the rest of the morning passed quickly. As their group strolled through the town, Hans and the delegation began to discuss the roadwork, debating the economics of development plans as well as possible tax breaks and inter-kingdom loans and future tolls… While they weren’t the most _festive_ topics, Anna found herself listening in and understanding more than she didn’t, a feat that would’ve surprised her back at the start of the year.

Every other block, Anna found herself spontaneously beseeched by various stage organizers, as queen of the realm, invited to be a guest judge and prize presenter for some of the more minor competitions. Hans paused the political discussions at each request. He stood back while Anna was pulled aside to the judging tables with a light smile on his face, apparently satisfied with just watching.

When Anna had finished handing out the first place prize for the speed-knitting competition, she quickly made her way back through the crowd to Hans’ side only to find him completely alone.

She lifted her eyebrow as he re-extended his arm for her to take. “What happened to the Summershire delegation?”

“Finished what needed to be said,”

“Oh.” Anna bit her lip. It wasn’t like she’d _asked_ Hans to pause their discussions every time she’d gotten plucked off, but— “It wasn’t anything I did, was it?”

“Not at all,” Hans said, laying a light kiss against the side of her temple.

Anna flushed, cheeks warming. She wasn’t used to being affectionate—even chastely affectionate—with him in public. Especially such a large public. The speed knitting crowd was still milling around; a cluster of old women by the stage nodded knowingly at the royal couple while chuckling to themselves.

“I guess you’re free to go wherever now,” Anna said, keeping her gaze focused on the stage, on the ground, anywhere but Hans really. “I’m sure a whole bunch of delegations are waiting to discuss important stuff with you.”

“True…” Hans said. Something in his voice made her look up and meet his eyes. His very green eyes. “But I think I’m liking it just fine right here.”

A small warmth tingled through her. Anna distracted herself from it by tucking her arm through his and pointing at something interesting in the distance. Or rather, something that was probably interesting. The only way to find out was to go and see. As they walked together, observing the festival that she’d organized, it was easy to pretend that everything was normal, that the day really _was_ as bright and cheerful as it seemed and not—

No.

She’d already told herself she _wasn’t_ going to think that way. Not today.

Not yet.

Anna gradually repositioned the arm that she’d linked around his. Her fingers splayed gently over his wrist, questing up and down until they found that small line where glove met sleeve and pressed against bare skin. Hans tensed for a second before relaxing again. Anna kept her fingers where they were, and both of them kept walking.

“Anna!” Rapunzel’s voice called out.

Anna froze.

Hans stopped as well. Her fingers slipped from his wrist as both her cousin and Eugene hurried towards them from across a small square. The other townsfolk parted like snow sloughing off the sides of a spring rooftop to let them through.

“We’ve been looking for you forever,” Rapunzel said, as she came to a halt in front of Anna. She cautiously looked sideways at Hans. “You said you were going to spend time with us today.”

Anna swallowed. She avoided looking at Hans, knowing he was already probably making weird connections between her sudden request to see the festival with him when she’d already promised to spend the day with Rapunzel.

“Stuff… came up,” she lamely offered.

Both Rapunzel and Eugene stared between the two. Anna’s face burned as she slowly realized how tightly she was clinging to Hans. At the same time, she didn’t want to let go and she _especially_ didn’t want him to leave. Not when him leaving meant discussing battle plans against him. But Anna couldn’t just tell Rapunzel to go away either. If her family had interpreted her innocent festival as a signal to mobilize, Anna didn’t want to even contemplate what they’d interpret _this_ as…

All three were turned towards her now, waiting on a response.

“What if,” she ventured weakly, “we all spent time together?”

They stared at Anna like she’d grown an extra head.

Or lost one.

Rapunzel cleared her throat. “Umm… Anna? Can I talk to you real quick? Alone?”

Anna glanced at Hans, who shrugged. Before she could come up with a protest or otherwise brace herself, Rapunzel was pulling her off across the square while Eugene remained with Hans. As soon as Rapunzel reached the furthest wall and couldn’t go any further, she whispered:

“Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Then what the heck are you doing?”

Anna swallowed again, conscious of their still super-close proximity to Hans; she’d never quite pinned down the exact limits of god-like hearing. Eugene seemed to be acting as a decoy for that exact purpose though. The man was talking up a loud storm, his words almost audible from across the square. There was no way Hans would be able to hear both conversations at the same time. “Trying to loosen his guard?” Anna whispered back. “It’s… uh… It’s part of the plan.”

“Anna…”

“Trust me,” Anna said. She drew upon everything Hans had ever taught her about being a liar and pushed all her false confidence to the surface. “I know what I’m doing.”

Rapunzel stared at her, seemingly searching for something in Anna’s face. Eventually she sighed. “And the _rest_ of the plan?” Her lips twisted in a small pout. “That was what today was for. Remember?”

“I remember,” Anna said quickly. A little too quickly. She took a deep breath and glanced back at Hans, still besieged by Eugene. “But your part doesn’t happen until mine does.”

Rapunzel did not look happy. “I _do_ trust you, Anna,” she eventually said. “But I don’t think a couple extra hours of interaction is going to matter much for you two at this point. And that’s all I’m asking for: a couple hours. Or failing that, even just one.” She peered at Anna in a way that made her shiver. “Unless you’re having second thoughts… which is okay.”

“I’m not!” Anna snapped. “I mean… I just…” Anna cursed herself; her cousin was giving her a way out, so why was she too ashamed to take it? “Come with us. Just for a bit. He’ll think I’m picking him over you and then I’m sure some delegation or other will pass by and he’ll leave to do important stuff with them and it’ll be a win-win.”

Another lie. Well, _possibly_ a lie.

“But…” Rapunzel looked past Anna’s shoulder and scrunched up her face in disgust. “It’s Hans.”

“It’ll be fine. Just act natural.”

“You mean act like he’s a homicidal invader?”

“Yes,” Anna said. “I mean, no! I mean—” She flailed for words. “Just… I don’t know, pretend he’s Kristoff.”

Rapunzel stared at her.

Anna squeezed her eyes shut, her face burning. “That’s not… what I meant… either.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Rapunzel said. “I… I know what you mean. I think. And if you think it’s for the best, I’ll do it.”

A sliver of guilt passed through Anna as she opened her eyes again.

_For the best._

Anna didn’t know if what she was doing was for the best anymore. Could’ve been for the worst. Could’ve been anything. But if Rapunzel was agreeing to go along with her, Anna wasn’t about to re-question it.

With their hands interlaced, Anna and Rapunzel made their way back to the two men. Hans stood with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, continuing to politely listen as Eugene talked both their ears off.

“—and then on top the shine being just a _little_ bit off, the best way of telling fool’s gold apart from the real deal is— Hey, Rapunzel! You’re back!”

Above Eugene’s casual grin, his eyes screamed out a silent ‘thank you’ for the rescue. Beside him, Hans seemed more casually pleased.

Key word being “seemed.”

Anna returned to Hans’ side, keeping a cautious eye on his face. She didn’t like his all-too-ready-to-please smiles. Now that she knew what to look for, she could practically feel the rigidness, like she could send cracks scattering across with one flick of a fingernail.

Hans picked up Eugene’s dropped thread of conversation. “You were saying? About the fool’s gold?”

“Huh?” Eugene said blankly, as Rapunzel wound her arm through his. “Oh. That.” He gave a dismissive wave. “That was just— I’m sure you don’t want to hear any more about that.”

“Actually, I find it fascinating. I knew about the differences in weight and hardness between the two metals, but never thought there’d be so many ways to tell them apart through sight alone.”

“Yeah, well… you pick up a knack after awhile.” Eugene looked sideways at Rapunzel for some kind of guiding prompt.

Nothing came.

Anna cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “So, I’ve been hearing that there’re hundreds of visiting ships in the harbor,” she said. “I kind of wanted to go look at all the different flags. Rapunzel said she was up for coming wherever with me… unless anyone else had anything they want to do more?”

Rapunzel forced a smile. “Nope. Both of us are good with the harbor.”

“Wait, we’re going with them?” Eugene whispered in a volume that barely qualified. Rapunzel squeezed his arm and nodded.

With Hans similarly free of objections, Anna took charge and began to lead the way, taking the streets that sloped gradually downhill. Heads turned, the other townsfolk watching the two royal couples as they made their way from block to block. Well… one royal couple and one _ex_ -royal couple. Anna didn’t know quite how to describe her cousin’s status anymore. All of the ex-royal families were currently hovering in a kind of twilight zone, carrying the full social weight of their old positions but none of the political power. A normal conqueror would’ve never kept them so highly elevated, would’ve never even kept them _alive_ … but Anna supposed that was one of the risk-free, confidence-boosting perks of immortality.

“Anna…”

Of course, the fact that all the ex-queens and kings and princes and princesses were still alive meant that it’d be a lot easier to go back to status quo if they _did_ go back to status quo, but—

“Anna.”

She started.

Hans had been calling her name. She blinked at him.

“I was just telling your cousin about all the outstanding work you’ve done with the treasury department.”

Anna frowned.

 _Outstanding work_.  It was like Hans was trying to talk with total strangers at some dinner ball as opposed to her flesh-and-blood family. Which… granted, Rapunzel and Eugene _were_ sort of strangers to him, but still.

 

“Right,” Anna said. “The treasury. Well, the trick with the treasury is—” She felt herself switch into auto-mode as she rambled on about the Weideland treasury. It wasn’t really the kind of thing she thought Rapunzel and Eugene would really care about, but she didn’t know how to switch topics. Didn’t know how to put things back to normal, or at least to some semblance of normal. “—and so… yeah,” she finally concluded. “Everything just sort of came together by the end.”

A blank pause followed. Hans quickly filled it.

“I’ve heard you’ve been involving yourself in similar endeavors?” he asked warmly towards Rapunzel.

She eyed him suspiciously, smile barely faltering. “I care about my people,” she said at the same time Eugene protested: “You never said it wasn’t allowed.”

Hans blinked, looking surprised at the reaction despite Anna knowing he had to be anything but. He was fully inhabiting one of his roles now. “On the contrary, I find it truly admirable,” he said with a dazzling smile. “I knew Anna worked in Corona’s consulate for a number of years. I can see now where her good influences came from.”

Rapunzel remained tight-lipped at the compliment.

Anna twitched. As she breathed, in and out, each lungful of air felt like a knife scratching beneath the ice of her skin. They were getting close to the harbor, the top masts now visible over the roofs of the surrounding buildings, but they were nowhere _near_ close enough to get there before Anna shattered in frustration.

From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a small dirt-paved alley.

Good enough.

Anna coughed. “Hans and I need a quick word alone,” she said, and before anyone could say anything back, she tugged him into it.

His mask slipped off the second the shadows enveloped them.

“Thank God,” Hans sneered. “That was painful beyond belief. I thought it’d take you _forever_ to come to your senses. Come on, let’s ditch them.” He reached for her arm, but Anna smacked his hand away.

“This!” she snapped. “Why can’t you just act like this?!”

Hans stared at her in utter confusion. “You want me to insult them?” he finally asked. “To their faces?”

“Well…” Anna slowly crossed her arms. It sounded kind of silly when he put it _that_ way, but— “Kind of, yeah.”

“But they’d hate me.” He sounded like a young child in his simplicity.

Anna sighed. “They already hate you,” she said in exhaustion.

Hans shifted, apparently uncomfortable with the thought of anyone hating him, even though it should’ve been obvious that a _lot_ of people in the world hated him.

“I mean, they hate your mask,” Anna amended. She paused. “I hate your mask.”

“What mask?”

She stared at him—surely he couldn’t be _that_ clueless—until she finally caught the small quirk of his lips, the teasing sparkle in his eyes… He was messing with her again.

“Ugh…” she groaned. “You are the worst, you know that?”

“I only tried to be nice because you asked me.”

“Of course I asked you. They’re family.”

His lips flattened into a straight line, his good humor fading. “Right,” he said. “Family.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just didn’t realize we were forcing each other to like people based on blood now.” He scowled. “I’ll make sure to mention that to my brothers the next time I see them. I’m sure Manfried and Georg will be just delighted to take you on a lovely beach stroll with them.”

Anna winced as she remembered the worst of Hans’ brothers. “That’s not the same,” she said, holding her ground. “And you know it.”

“Oh, really? Why not?”

“Because— Because Rapunzel and Eugene are nice.”

“Nice? They hate me. You said it yourself.”

“Well, yeah. You stole their kingdom.”

From the way Hans stiffened, his shoulders jerking back, Anna knew she was on a collision course to Dangersville… but the only way back now would be to apologize and she was _not_ doing that.

“I didn’t steal it,” Hans said tightly. “The people of Corona came to me for aid and protection, and I obliged.”

“They ‘ _came’_ to you because you cut them off from every single other kingdom. Because you did your— your weather thing and killed all their crops and spread that plague around and—”

“I didn’t do the plague.”

“Fine. You didn’t do the plague. But you didn’t do anything to help stop it either, did you?” Anna took a deep breath. “Look at me and tell me you didn’t see it as a benefit to your plans.”

As Hans remained silent, a horrible thought suddenly slipped into her head.

“What if… What if back then, I _hadn’t_ gone home to Arendelle?” she asked softly. “What if I’d stayed in Corona?” She kept her gaze on him but didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Would you have let me fall sick with them? Die?”

“No! Anna, you know I’d never—”

He reached out to cradle her face but she jerked away with a scowl.

“I _know_ that?” she demanded. “After you’ve already left me to die once before?” She laughed bitterly. “If anything, I think a repeat’d be less surprising than none at all.”

“Damn it, Anna! I’ve already told I can’t change the past!” He threw up his hands. “What the hell do you expect me to do? Apologize every single day for the rest of my life? Because I would if it’d actually _do_ something. But it won’t, because you don’t care. No matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

“You’re right! It’s not enough! Because you don’t even—!” Anna nearly screamed in frustration; she groaned instead. “You’re not supposed to apologize in order to _get_ anything! You apologize because you’re genuinely sorry! And you’re not! You’re not sorry at all! Words keep coming out of your mouth but none of it means anything! _You_ don’t mean anything!”

“I see,” Hans grit out.

“No, you don’t! You _don’t_ see! Otherwise you wouldn’t be twisting together this twisted fantasy where you’re just the poor little victim and…” Anna grimaced as she thought back to the spring festival. “And then because that wasn’t enough, you went and lied to the people here, telling them you’re the hero and Elsa’s the monster—”

“She _is_ a monster. She killed their sons.”

“Sons that you sent to attack us. My sister was protecting Arendelle from _you_.”

“She wouldn’t have had to if she’d just surrendered from the start.”

Anna scoffed in disgust. “I can’t believe you.”

“I did what I had to for my people as well.”

“Your people,” Anna repeated blankly.

“They trust me. Believe in me.”

Fury boiled through her, impossible to stop. “Because you don’t let them know any better!” she snapped. “They’re not your people! They’re your sheep! If they knew the truth, they’d—”

“The truth isn’t as important as—”

“They’d _hate_ you! Just like everyone else does!”

“They do not!”

“Yes, they do! Everyone hates you! _I_ hate you!” She twisted her wedding ring off, the metal suddenly too tight. “The only reason the neighboring kingdoms haven’t assassinated you already is because you’re immortal! And you just sit there with your head in the sand pretending nothing’s wrong and— And _God_ … at least when I poison myself I’ll finally be taking myself out of a world with _you_ in it!” She hurled the ring at him. It bounced off his waist coat and fell into the muck.

Hans stared at her, deathly silent.

Anna stared back, horror trickling slowly in as she realized what she’d just said.

Oh no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Mooncactus for helping me out with this chapter. It was really kicking my butt (still is in a lot of ways), and her help was invaluable. Some plot stuff taken from her ideas.
> 
> Also, had to split apart this chapter from the next one, so the story's also just gotten one chapter longer. Yay?
> 
> Also also, went back and retcon'ed one chapter from Act Five: Part Six so Hans & Anna's engagement wasn't as stiff and restrained as I originally wrote. Was something I'd been meaning to do, and I think it fits the flow better.


	43. Act Five: Part Ten

Hans continued to stare at her. “Poison,” he finally said.

Anna swallowed. “P-poison? Who said anything about poison? I didn’t— That is… We should go back to—”

He caught her arm as she tried to flee. “Anna, you’d really—? Do you really…?”

His eyes were wide, disbelieving. Something about their innocence—their mock innocence—jabbed beneath her skin and stuck there.

Anna snorted. “Hate you that much?” she answered. She glared at him, and threw as much venom into her voice as she could. “Is it really a surprise?”

Hans dropped her arm like it’d burned him and stumbled back, nearly tripping over the alley’s uneven cobbles. His eyes remained locked onto her for a few breathless moments, and then he stormed off.

Anna remained standing where she was.

Realization sunk in.

Oh God.

What had she done?

Breath rushed back into her lungs. Anger ebbed away and was replaced by cold, sober thought. Beneath the June sun, Anna shivered. As she rubbed her arms, trying not cry, a small glint of gold caught her eye. There. In the middle of a dull, muddy puddle. Her ring. Anna grabbed it, wiped it off, and started to place it back onto her finger— and paused.

A tiny little ring wasn’t going to fix things now.

Her hand lowered and dropped it into a small pocket sewn against the hip of her dress. Then, with a final shuddering breath, Anna left the alley.

Both Rapunzel and Eugene were standing at its mouth, waiting for her.

Staring at her.

Shoot.

“Anna?” Rapunzel ventured. “What happened? We heard yelling but it was kind of muffled and then Hans walked straight past us without saying anything and— Anna?”

Her eyes burned. Sticky wetness clung to both of her cheeks. Tears. She’d started crying without even realizing it. And why shouldn’t she? She hadn’t cared about the mission back in the alleyway. Hadn’t care about the good of the world or the people who were relying on her. Hadn’t care about anything. She’d just wanted to hurt him and she _had_ hurt him. And it’d felt _good_.

Oh God. What was she becoming?

Her hands hovered by her sides, torn between the desire to scrub the tears off her face and ignore them.

“What’s wrong?” Rapunzel asked.

It took Anna a second to get her throat under control. “I-I told him—” She took shaky breath. “I told Hans that I hated him. “ Her voice felt hollow. “I told him wanted to kill myself and I… I meant every word but—” She staggered beneath the weight of the sudden realization. “I don’t think I can go through with the plan anymore.”

Beside her, Rapunzel melted in sympathy. “Oh, Anna…”

As Rapunzel hugged her cousin tight, the dam that Anna’d been bracing shut suddenly cracked. It cracked wide. All of the tears, all of the terrors and doubts and anxieties that she’d been holding back came spilling out in deep, painful sobs.

Eugene cleared throat.

Blearily, Anna noticed that the passing festival goers had mostly stopped passing and were staring instead. Rapunzel gave a disgruntled cough and then dragged Anna back into the shadowed alley. Eugene hung back to stand guard at its entrance.

“It’s okay,” Rapunzel said, stroking the hair back from Anna’s face.

Anna laughed. “How is it okay? Everyone’s been relying on me.” She shook her head limply. “I told everyone I could do it… and I couldn’t.”

“You did fine. _More_ than fine.”

“But Elsa and all those soldiers that you said—”

“They don’t matter.”

Anna’s head began to hang, heavier and heavier, until it was resting limply in the crook of her cousin’s shoulder. Rapunzel patted Anna’s back reassuringly.

“In fact,” Rapunzel continued. “Elsa will probably be thrilled. She was never that strong about the whole ‘possibly kill yourself’ part of the plan. Me too. As for Eugene, well…”

“Hey!” Eugene called out from the front of the alley. “It _works_!”

Rapunzel snorted. Anna found herself hiccuping with a smile.

They took a couple more minutes to let Anna regain control of herself. Her sobs quieted, and then stopped entirely. Wiping the tears off her face as best as possible, Anna stood back and looked up. The alleyway was thin and narrow, its residential balconies nearly touching towards the top, but beyond that, between the festival flags and the drying laundry and the hanging plants, the midday sky shone bright and blue. Anna felt the silly urge to reach up and try to touch it…

“I suppose this means we go with Plan B,” Rapunzel said.

Anna dropped her gaze. “Plan B?”

“Yep. You were wandering alone yesterday… You think you can wander alone again tomorrow?”

Anna nodded cautiously.

“Good.” Rapunzel moved closer to Anna until she was close enough to whisper. “We have some locals on our side—loyalists who know Weideland inside and out—and they promised they’d help smuggle you out of the kingdom if Plan A went, well… went the way Plan A ended up going.”

“Smuggle?” Anna whispered back. She blinked at her cousin. “But I—”

“It’s worth the risk,” Rapunzel said firmly. “We can’t just leave you here. And with the distractions of the festival, now’s our best chance.”

Anna looked at the mouth of the alley. Eugene remained standing guard. Alone. If Hans had any hidden spies on her, they didn’t seem like they were about to do any immediate swooping and attacking.

“But—” Anna started.

“But what?” Rapunzel asked.

Anna swallowed. “Nothing.”

Rapunzel’s eyes glittered with supportive warmth. “I know you’re scared,” she said, interlacing her fingers through Anna’s. “I was absolutely terrified leaving my tower. I thought for sure Mother would find me, punish me… I didn’t even think about it as punishment at the time. My head was too caught up in the life she’d made for me to think about things rationally.” She squeezed Anna’s hands and smiled softly. “But soon you’re gonna be with Elsa and Kristoff again. Hans never found them and he’ll never find you. Everything’s going to be okay again. Just you see.”

Anna slipped one hand from Rapunzel’s, let it drop into her pocket until her fingers closed around the small metal band resting there. Her cousin was still smiling at her, waiting for some sort of response. “Right,” she finally heard herself say. She wanted to say something else, but no grand words came. “Thanks.”

* * *

A slight chill hung in the air as Anna and the others made their way back to the castle. Memories of the post-sunset firework show replayed in her head, making the journey pass faster than she’d thought it would. At the door to the castle’s entrance hall, Anna paused. She looked behind at the courtyard. At its open gate and the sprawling fields beyond.

A soft hand touched her arm.

“Tomorrow,” Rapunzel whispered. Her cousin had used the concealing roar of the fireworks to explain the general details of Plan B: where to meet up, _when_ to meet up, the various distractions others would cause to keep Hans’ attention off her… The amount of pre-planning that must’ve gone into it made Anna uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure how much she liked being the subject of someone else’s roundtable.

Anna nodded.

They stopped one more time in the center of the entrance hall.

“You don’t have to go up there,” Rapunzel said, nodding at the far set of stairs. “Eugene and I can talk to the chamberlain, pass it off as a silly sleepover, see if we can get a cot set up in our room…”

“A cot?” Eugene scoffed. “Anna’s the queen. The chamberlain’s not going to let her sleep on a cot.”

Rapunzel groaned. “Not for Anna. For you.”

“What—? Hey!”

“Thanks. Really,” Anna quickly said. “But I’ll be fine for one more—” She stopped herself from saying ‘one more night.’ The castle had a lot potential eyes and ears listening in than the town did. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Anna took a shaky breath. Her cousin’s offer was tempting. She had no idea how Hans would react to her suicide confession if—or when—she saw him again tonight, but if he was planning on confronting her, then relocating to another room wasn’t going stop him. Would probably make it worse, actually…

“Yeah,” she finally said.

Rapunzel nodded and hugged Anna again. When she pulled away, it looked like she was going to say something, but then she silently took Eugene’s hand and they left for their guest quarters in the west wing.

Despite her resolution to her cousin, Anna remained in the entrance hall as long as she could. Clasping her hands together, she greeted several groups of dignitaries as they tipsily wandered in from the late-night festivities. She waited until her face began to hurt from the polite smiling, before she finally forced herself to head up towards the royal suite.

It was fine. It was _going_ to be fine.

The quicker she got there, the quicker she went to bed.

The quicker she went to bed, the quicker she’d—

No. She’d done enough thinking about tomorrow. Whatever happened now would be what happened.

When she reached the royal suite, Anna purposely headed for her private bedroom. She plopped herself down at the foot of her bed and began dismantling the army of pins that held up her braids. Soon she had a small pyramid growing beside her, and still all her braids were intact. She’d really done a number on it today.

There was a knock at the door.

“Anna?”

She flinched, then felt stupid for flinching. She’d known this was going to happen.

Inevitable, really.

“We need to talk,” Hans’ voice said through the door.

Ignoring him, she took out another pin and dropped it onto the top of her pyramid. The first lock of hair finally fell. Her fingers immediately began questing for the next.

“Anna, this is all my fault. I’m— I’m sorry.”

Her hands froze in her hair. Anna closed her eyes and repeated to herself that Hans’ words didn’t mean anything. They hadn’t meant anything when she’d been eighteen and in love, and they sure as hell didn’t mean anything now.

“Anna, _please.”_ His voice broke.

Anna’s breath hitched.

Something twisted in her chest. He hadn’t discovered her full plan. He thought she _wanted_ to kill herself. The guilt from her perverse pleasure at hurting him in the alley rushed back in full force. _Was_ this who she wanted to be? No, she immediately thought. She could be better than him. She _had_ to be better than him. And she could at least hear him out, smooth his fears so that he’d be less tense tomorrow. She needed that if she wanted to escape.

Decision made, Anna lowered her hands into her lap.

She just had to be cool, had to keep her emotions reined in this time.

Had to be Elsa.

Anna took a deep breath. “Come in.”

She heard the door latch and then unlatch. Hans entered. He wasn’t wearing his jacket. Beneath his unbuttoned waistcoat, his shirt hung limp and rumpled. His hair was sticking up in spots, the same way it always did after Anna’d had her way with it, running her hands through the russet strands, ruining its perfection. His face looked haggard.

He stopped a couple feet from the bed and stared at her without speaking.

“What do you want?” Anna asked evenly.

Hans straightened. As his eyes moved towards hers, Anna turned her head a fraction to the right and focused her gaze on the wall behind him.

“I couldn’t find it,” she heard him say.

“What?”

“The poison. I couldn’t find it.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a hidden poison if it wasn’t hidden,” Anna bit out before she could stop herself.

A flinch ran through Hans. “Where is it?”

Anna remained silent.

“Please, Anna… Don’t do this. Anything but this…”

Anna tried to shut out the pain in his voice. It was okay to shut out the pain. She wasn’t being heartless because the pain wasn’t real. It had never been real. It was what Hans _used_ : the small inflections of his voice, the tug of his frown, the broken sheen in his eyes… All perfectly calculated to best manipulate the people around him.

Anna _knew_ that, and still…

She resisted the temptation to bite her lip as she weighed her options as logically as possible. She’d already given up on ever using the poison, so it didn’t _seem_ like there’d be too much harm telling Hans’ its location. Hans had his own stores of poison. Had his own ways of killing people. And if she _didn’t_ tell him where it was, he would probably panic. Would probably summon doctors to restrain her until she was deemed no longer a threat to herself. There’d be no escape for her tomorrow.

And so, she told him. Told him what the necklace looked like. Told him where he would find it. She didn’t tell him where she’d gotten it, and he didn’t ask. He disappeared for a couple minutes. When he returned, the necklace was dangling from his fingers.

“This is it?” he asked.

Anna lowered her head. All she had to do was get through this night. Get through this night and she never had to see him again. Her body trembled slightly at that; she didn’t want to ponder why.

As the silence grew thicker and thicker, she ventured a quick glance at Hans. He was turning the necklace over in his hands. Then, he slowly unscrewed the one hollow gem from its holder and sniffed at the poison. His face remained blank.

“If you’d taken it, I could’ve saved you,” Hans said before screwing the hollow gem back into its spot. “Brought you back from death door’s.” As he stared at the necklace, he added, much softer, “For a price.”

Anna swallowed. At the small sound, his eyes snapped to hers. Pierced through her.

“You already knew that,” he said.

Anna froze.

The blood rushed out her. She hadn’t intended for that to slip out. Wait, had it slipped out? He’d just sort of picked it out of her. Like he always did. She fidgeted beneath his gaze, feeling exposed. Raw. Her muscles twitched, screaming at her to run. Her brain kept her still. Running wouldn’t solve anything.

As she braced herself for the inevitable fallout, she realized Hans wasn’t trying to look her in the eyes anymore, and instead followed the line of his gaze, down, down… to where her fingers were nestled in her lap.

Her bare, ringless fingers.

Anna started to cover her left hand with her right— and then stopped. Left it bare.

“You’re not staying, are you?” Hans finally said after what felt like an eternity. “Kill yourself… run away… Either way, you’re not staying.” When she didn’t answer, he closed his eyes and swallowed.

After a moment, he moved forward. Anna instinctively flinched back, but all he did was kneel before her. She stared at him in shock as he placed both hands on his knees. Stared at him in confusion. Was he trying to re-propose to her or something? Did he really think _that_ was going to fix anything?

Hans bowed his head. “I should never have brought you here,” he muttered, his voice tight. “Should never have—” He took a deep breath. “After the festival, I want you to go.”

The world twisted out from under her.

“W-what,” she said.

His teeth grit against some imaginary pain. “I want you to go,” he repeated, keeping his eyes shut. “Back to Corona with that cousin of yours. Back home to Arendelle… Sovkaya, Calella, Kyprios, or Ajkhania… Anywhere you want.”

Then he fell silent.

“You… you’re letting me leave,” Anna slowly said, trying to grasp what was happening. “Me. Leave.” A thought hit her. “But—” Once again her mouth moved before her brain did. “But I could turn around and start plotting against you.”

“Better you plotting against me a country away then in my own bed.” He opened his eyes, but kept them focused on the floor. “And I’m not letting you,” he muttered sullenly.

“What?”

Hans groaned. “‘Let’ implies that I’m giving you permission,” he said. “Which I’m _not_ because…” He took a deep pained breath. “You don’t need my permission. For anything.”

Anna stared at him.

Slowly, she reached out until her fingers were cradling his jaw, lifted it so that his eyes met hers. There was a rawness carved there, carved across his whole face. It went beyond sadness, beyond desperation, and it unnerved Anna so much that it took her a second to place it:

Fear.

Something cracked inside her, and the tears returned before she could stop them.

Hans instantly raised a hand to her face. “Please don’t cry,” he said, fingers trailing over her cheek. “Do whatever you want. Just please don’t cry.”

Anna let out a choked laugh which could’ve very well been just another sob. Everything had flipped on itself, turning completely ridiculous. For days, for weeks, for _months_ she’d been wanting more than words, doing her best to endear herself to him, analyzing his every little action, and here it was. The unintentional product of her most massive screw-up to date.

Hans loved her.

The thought rushed through her, tingling and clean, finally loosening the knot in her stomach that’d been twisting and twisting and twisting for longer than she could remember now. Hans loved her. He _loved_ her. Although… really that in and of itself shouldn’t have meant anything because Anna had only cared about him being in love with her for the plan and the plan was in ruins, but inexplicably, she _did_ care about it, she _wanted_ Hans to be in love with her, and it meant the _world_ that he was in love with her because—

Oh God.

Anna’s breath caught. Her hands trembled.

It was suddenly painful to look him in the eyes, but she couldn’t find it in herself to look away either.

She loved him too.

Her strength gave out and the upper half of her body folded forward into her own lap. She stayed there, head dizzy, the thump of her racing heartbeat blocking out all other noise, until she felt a light touch against her shoulders. It sent shivers down her spine.

“You don’t even have to wait for the end of the festival,” Hans whispered, his voice soft but tight. “You can— You can leave tonight if you want. Just say the word. You can have anything.”

Anna looked up at that. She searched Hans’ face, tried to find some hint— _any_ hint—of a lie. Of a trap.

She couldn’t.

A jittering feeling suddenly gripped her chest and _squeezed_. Anna’s body moved before her head could react. She leaned forward, letting her lips press against his, gentle but insistent. Hans didn’t move.

He pressed a bare palm against her shoulder. Pushed her back.

“Anything but that,” he said coldly.

Anna stared at Hans as he drew himself back up to his feet.

Confusion quickly gave way to mortified embarrassment.

Oh God. What was she doing? She’d just confessed that she’d only married Hans to ‘murder’ him—or at least hadn’t denied it, which was pretty much the same thing—and then not even five minutes later she was flinging herself at him? Anna flushed as she squeezed her eyes shut. She was suddenly, _extremely_ glad that Hans had stopped her before she’d humiliated herself any further.

There was a soft thud of a door closing, and Anna’s eyes snapped back open.

Hans had left.

The room felt empty again—nothing but her and her abandoned pile of hair pins. Her skin felt too tight, stretched too far across her pounding, breathless chest. Her blood was rushing too fast through hollow veins, leaving her dizzy with numbness. As Anna stood up, bracing herself against the mattress, her foot hit something. She looked down.

The necklace.

Hans had left it on the floor.

Anna had a sudden vision of herself grabbing the necklace and drinking its poison anyway. Her stomach churned at the thought.

Leaving the necklace where it was on the smooth wooden floor, Anna made her way over to her wardrobe. She had no idea what was happening anymore, but she knew without a doubt that she couldn’t lay back on the bed, go to sleep, and simply wait for tomorrow. Her feelings… They changed nothing.

She grabbed a travel-ready handbag that’d be big enough for a spare dress and some extra underthings. As she folded the garments with crisp efficiency, her eyes swept over the width of her bedroom. Countless crafts and paperwork covered its various horizontal surfaces. She left them untouched like she did the necklace. They’d been… distractions. That and she’d be able knit and draw and sew again once she got to… well, once she got to wherever she was going.

Anna doubted that Rapunzel would be able to change the plan and smuggle her out tonight instead, but it was worth asking. As she closed the top clasp of her handbag, she suddenly paused. Perhaps she’d misread Hans. Perhaps she’d seen things that weren’t really there after all andthis was all a trap to lead him straight to Rapunzel and her hidden network of supporters. Perhaps it’d be better if Anna walked straight out the castle’s front doors. After all, if Hans had been telling the truth, then Anna didn’t _need_ to be smuggled anymore, and if he had lied…

Her hands shook around her handbag.

If Hans had lied, then leaving alone would keep the risk of his retaliation solely on herself.

Anna forcibly yanked herself out of that line of thinking. After all, if Hans had figured Anna out, surely he had to know Rapunzel was somehow in on it too. If her cousin was in danger, she was already in it. The least Anna could do was warn her and then decide how to move forward from there.

Together.

As Anna slipped her shoes back on, she took one final glance around her bedroom. Her eyes strayed to the closed door between the two bedrooms.

Perhaps…

Anna stopped that thought before it could begin. This was what she’d wanted, what she’d been working for ever since the day that Arendelle had fallen. Freedom. She just needed to be happy and take it.

And she _was_ happy.

She was.

Tucking her handbag closer to her side, Anna left the room. Its door closed behind her with resolute thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, special thanks to Mooncactus for her help in this chapter! There're at least one or two bits of dialogue cribbed straight from the ideas she sent me. (Sorry, I tried my best to reword them to be more original but they were pretty much perfect as is!)


	44. Act Five: Part Eleven

Anna stood awkwardly at the front of the guest suite, clutching her travel bag in front of her.

Rapunzel and Eugene both stared at her.

“You did _what_?” Rapunzel demanded at the same time Eugene squawked, “He did _what_?

Anna flushed. She’d spilled the whole story the second Rapunzel’s door had closed behind her— Well, the whole story minus the ‘her realizing she was in love with a mass murderer’ part, which… yeah. She twisted her fingers tighter around her bag. “So… any chance of hurrying up that plan we had?” she asked hopefully.

Rapunzel and Eugene turned towards each other and began to hold some kind of telepathic conversation. Eventually, Eugene stumbled backwards, collapsing into a lounge chair while Rapunzel rubbed her bottom lip in thought.

“I don’t understand,” Rapunzel said. “Why would he—?”

“I don’t either,” Anna said. Her bag was starting to get heavy, but she didn’t want to put it down. “That’s why I think we should hurry up the plan.”

“The plan? But you said you didn’t want— Oh, you mean the other…” She paused. “But didn’t he say you were free to go?”

“Yeah, but…”

“You still don’t trust him,” Eugene said knowingly.

Anna swallowed. Guilt seemed to stick in her throat.

“Hey! _Hey_!” Eugene said. “That’s a complement. Really.”

For a grand total of five seconds, Anna managed to hold it together, and then she burst into tears.

“Anna! Oh, Anna…” Rapunzel drew Anna into a firm hug, making reassuring strokes against her back as she continued to sob. They couldn’t know the truth behind her tears. Anna couldn’t tell her cousin about her realization. They’d look at her in horror. Would never understand… “It’s okay,” Rapunzel continued, oblivious. “Everything’s gonna be okay. Eugene and I will take care of everything.”

* * *

If it’d been hard believing Rapunzel’s promise back in the warm comfort of her room, it was doubly hard to believe it now. Anna shifted as she tried to get comfortable on the hard floor of the dark supply cart, one of dozens making its daily trip from the castle to the harbor docks. She wished it could be Rapunzel sitting beside her instead of the currently silent, dark-haired girl—some near-and-dear confident who Rapunzel had claimed she trusted with her life. When Rapunzel had done the introductions, Anna’d had a brief hope that the stranger was Elsa in disguise again, but then the girl—Cassandra—had opened her mouth and a completely different, brash voice had come out, and, well, there’d gone that hope.

Nope, Anna was on her own for this first leg of the journey. Rapunzel and Eugene were leaving separately, taking a similarly smuggled exit as soon as they’d finished informing their troops of the massive change of plans. Despite Anna swearing over and over again that she hadn’t mentioned _anything_ about Rapunzel's attack part of the “Destroy Hans’ Godhood” plan, no one apparently wanted to take _any_ chances.

They were all terrified of him, she’d realized.

Terrified of Hans.

Her husband.

The immortal monster.

Anna shivered, though she didn’t know whether from the thought or from the physical chill, and tugged the brown cloak she’d been given her tighter around herself. It’d been nearing dawn when Anna had been smuggled inside the supply cart, and she had no way of telling whether the sun had risen yet or not. Hopefully once it did, the temperature would go up, and then…

And then it’d be the final day of the festival.

Would it simply go on without her? Would the kingdom? Would Hans?

Anna forced herself to stop thinking about that last one. Even if Hans had been telling the truth… Even if he was letting her go _now_ , did he really have the resolve to stick to it later? Or would he get bored and change his mind? Reclaim her like he’d claimed the thirteen kingdoms currently beneath his rule?

She’d never know for sure, and that’s why she was doing the right thing, she told herself. As long as she went into hiding, let enough time pass for his love— for his _obsession_ to fade, then maybe one day, a few years from now (or a few decades) she could…

Anna bit her lip.

Hans was immortal. She was not. Would she come back one day, a little old lady with grey hair and a bowed back, only to see him just as ageless and untouched by the wear and tear of life as he’d been on their wedding day…?

Anna mentally smacked herself. Why was she thinking about returning to Weideland already when she hadn’t even left yet? She shook her head to rid herself of the stupid thought.

Stupid, stupid Anna…

Eventually, the cart pulled to a shuddering halt. Cassandra returned to her alert self, a hand hovering over the weapon-laden belt around her waist. Anna peered through the darkness at it, trying to see exactly what the girl was armed with. Before she could though, a strange man poked his head into the storage area and nodded at the two of them. Cassandra must’ve known him because she nodded back, then stood and gestured for Anna to follow.

Making sure her cloak was secure around her, Anna stepped off the supply cart and onto the small dock. The majority of the sky was still a deep, fjord-like blue, but towards the east, the first red fringes of light were starting to burn. Dark clouds hung silhouetted against the pale glow. Several ships down, various dockworkers went about their duties like mechanical cogs in a clock tower, porting goods from ships to other supply carts and back.

“Lady Anna,” Cassandra whispered firmly.

Anna flinched and turned. Cassandra nodded at the nearest ship.

It was a small ship, not built for anything more than a three or four day voyage. A Stralshagen flag hung atop its highest mast.

Anna swallowed, trying to ignore the slightly queasy feeling in her belly. It wasn’t like she’d _expected_ it to be an Arendelle ship or even a Coronan one, but the foreign flag still filled her with unease. Still, she trusted Rapunzel and she trusted Rapunzel’s trust in Cassandra.

As Cassandra gestured forward, Anna hurried her way up the narrow gangplank, careful to keep her hood from slipping. Cassandra guided her below deck and into cramped, yet well-furnished cabin. A single porthole was set into the opposite wall. Or hull? Did ships technically have walls?

Ugh, she was starting to ramble in her head again.

With nothing else to do, Anna took her seat in one of the cabin’s bolted chairs and waited for the captain.

And waited.

It was just as chilly on the boat as it’d been on the supply cart, and Anna was still wearing her summer dress from yesterday. She tried to tug her cloak further around her, but it didn’t quite stretch the way she needed it. Her breath puffed out in small, white clouds.

Finally there was a knock at the door.

Cassandra had her dagger instantly drawn. “Who crosses the path of the messenger?” she demanded.

“No one. For he alone is closest to the sun.”

Cassandra took a deep breath, then sheathed her dagger. She looked almost disappointed. “Come in.”

A middle-aged, weathered-looking man with a pointed chin and an even _more_ pointed mustache entered. “Your Highness,” he said with a small bow. “I can’t begin to tell you what a great honor is it to both meet _and_ assist you.”

Anna twitched. There was something odd about his greeting… She inhaled sharply when she realized what it was—she’d gotten used to being “Your Majesty,” which… was she still a ‘Your Majesty’? She still felt like a ‘Your Majesty’, but she _had_ just abandoned king and crown, so she supposed not…

Trying to shove those thoughts aside, Anna drew herself up. “And who do _I_ have the honor of meeting?”

“Oh, do forgive me!” The man took his hat off and clutched it close to his chest. “Captain Trond Svalsen. Born 1792 in the Sørbrygge District of Arendelle and proud to lay down my life for home and country.”

“Oh,” Anna said, stunned by the bluntness of his statement. It’d been so raw and honest that she didn’t doubt the captain—especially given his connections with Cassandra and Rapunzel—but it was a little off-putting. For a complete stranger to lay down his life… Anna didn’t deserve that kind of blind devotion, royalty or not.

Luckily, the Captain seemed to take her shock in stride.

“You don’t have to worry about anything anymore, Your Highness,” he said. “I’ll make sure it’s all taken care of.” He looked proud of the statement. Anna forced herself to nod; the mass-echoed sentiment of her supposed helplessness was starting to wear itself out. “We’ll get you delivered to a safe spot. I hope you have everything you need, Your Highness, because this is going to be a one-way trip.”

At his words, the permanence of what she was doing finally hit her. It caught in her lungs and squeezed. Anna shivered again, which reminded her…

“And my sister?” she asked.

The Captain and Cassandra both flinched. The movements were barely noticeable—flinches so tiny that, if not for months of tutelage beneath Hans’ discerning eye, Anna never would’ve caught them.

“Your sister?” the captain repeated. “What about her?”

“Rapunzel said she was here. How is she leaving the kingdom? Is she coming with us? Or…?”

Cassandra looked at the Captain. For guidance.

“As far as I know your sister is arranging her own travel,” the Captain said. “Now. If you’re ready, I’ll level to prepare our departure. There’s much to do, and we need to be out at sea within the hour.”

Something was wrong.

The Captain left. Anna turned to Cassandra.

“Why an hour?” she asked.

Cassandra shrugged, not quite meeting Anna’s eyes. “Why not?”

Anna frowned.

Then she stood and swept out of the cabin.

“Anna!” Cassandra shouted, but she was too late. Anna strode across the deck to where the Captain was talking with one of the other sailors. The outside air was sharp and cold.

Too cold.

“Why do we need to be at sea within an hour?” Anna demanded.

“Your Highness!” the Captain whispered. “You need to get below deck. It’s not safe up here.” He made to tug Anna’s cloak further over herself, but she dodged her grasp.

“Answer my question.”

“Your Highness…”

He reached for her again and she dodged again. As she glared at him, refusing to relent, something white fell onto her nose. Anna blinked, then looked up.

Snow.

In summer.

“Where’s my sister?” Anna asked. Horror sunk into her voice, making it tremble.

“Anna…” Cassandra said coming up behind her. “We should let the captain do what he’s been assigned to—”

“No!” Anna jabbed a finger at the darkening sky. “This is Elsa. She’s doing something stupid, isn’t she? What is it?”

“Anna…”

Anna slapped Cassandra’s hands away. She cast dark glances around the deck of the ship, suddenly aware of how many big, muscular sailors there were compared to just one of her. “ _Tell_ me.”

The Captain sighed. He nodded at the sailor he’d been talking to, who walked off and began shouting orders at the assembled crew.

“Your sister,” the Captain finally said, his voice weary, “is leading an attack on the castle. Giving us cover to escape.”

Anna gaped at him, frozen in shock.

Her sister…? But…

“I don’t need cover,” Anna said blankly. “Hans said he was letting me go.”

“Right,” Cassandra said. “Which is why you came to Rapunzel and me for help instead of walking straight out the front gates.” When Anna didn’t respond, Cassandra gave her a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay. You don’t trust him. That’s good.”

The snow began to fall harder and harder, visibly streaking the air with white. Overhead, dark clouds swirled and blotted out the sky towards the north.

Towards the castle.

The realization hit her like a physical blow.

Elsa was leading the attack. Against Hans. She was going to fight Hans to the death.

And Hans couldn’t die.

“Captain!” a sailor yelled. “We have to lift anchor!”

The noise snapped Anna from her trance. She couldn’t leave her sister. Couldn’t leave her to—

Anna bolted for the gang plank, but it was already gone.

A pair of hands clamped down around her shoulders. “Your Highness,” the Captain said behind her. “This is what your sister wanted.”

Anna inhaled sharply, her nostrils flaring. What her sister wanted? How _dare_ Elsa make this decision for her? For the both of them? Just because she was older, just because she was the ‘queen’ first, she thought she knew everything. Thought the world was hers to command. Thought she could just _sacrifice_ herself and make Anna take it lying down…

“Your Highness,” the Captain repeated instantly.

Anna yanked her elbow forward, then slammed it back straight into the captain’s gut. He fell.

“That’s ‘Your _Majesty_ ’ to you,” Anna hissed.

Shouts rose up behind her. She only had a second or two to act.

Bracing herself for the shock and the chill, Anna took a deep breath and jumped off the side of the boat. Her muscles froze as she hit the harbor water, paralyzed beneath the chill water, and then they kicked back into action. Anna gasped for air and floundered towards the docks. Voices continued to shout above her. She distantly recognized one as Cassandra’s:

“Anna!”

“Someone go and grab her!” the Captain shouted. “She’s gone mad.”

Anna felt herself snort despite the cold seeping into every inch of her.

Like _that_ was news.

Grabbing the top of the low-hanging docks, Anna struggled to get a leg up onto it, and then rolled onto the flat wood, energy spent. Her clothes were soaked, the cotton and silk starting to freeze. Her breath was _very_ visible now, and it stung to breathe.

But she couldn’t stop.

Not now.

She untied her cloak and tottered to her feet.

Several dockworkers stood nearby, staring at her. Next to one was an un-carted horse.

“I need your horse,” Anna demanded, the words coming out a half-cough.

“Your Majesty?” the man said.

Anna didn’t know whether he let go of the reins in shock or compliance, and she didn’t care. She grabbed hold of them and pulled herself up onto the saddle. “I’ll give him back. I promise.”

Then she snapped the reins, galloping uphill through the streets.

The snow was starting to stick now. Families stepped out of their homes, faces turned numbly towards the sky as they held their hands up to catch the flakes. Anna ignored them and urged her mount faster, taking the widest paths out of town. She didn’t know what she was going to do once she reached the castle, just that she had to get there. Memories replayed themselves in her head—her bursting into Arendelle’s throne room, Hans impaled against the wall, Elsa paralyzed with horror… Anna could only pray that she’d get there in time again. That she’d be able drag her sister to safety as she’d managed last time.

Well. Half-managed.

The snow piled higher and higher onto the main road. Despite Anna’s best urging, her horse began to slow. The wind picked up as the world approached total whiteout. The only sign that let Anna know she was still headed in the right direction were the trees that framed the road on either side, keeping a straight path forward.

Then dark, fuzzy blobs appeared in the distance, growing closer.

“Halt!” a man shouted.

Remembering the two armies, Anna obeyed. Her horse shifted nervously beneath her. Or shifted from the cold. Anna had no idea. Her teeth chattered.

The blobs coalesced into men. Armed men.

“Who goes there?!” one demanded.

Anna had no idea how to respond. If they were her soldier’s they’d expect one answer. Elsa’s soldiers another.

The one who’d been shouting finally got close enough to see her face. His eyes widened. “Your Majesty?!” Right as he said it, Anna spotted the Weideland crest stamped into the leather of his uniform. “What are you doing out here? There’s black magic afoot. You need to get back to the castle where it’s safe!”

Anna blinked at the apparently clueless soldiers. If Elsa had begun her attack, the castle was the least safe place in the entire kingdom Still, she wasn’t about to argue. With a small nod, Anna let the commander pull her off her exhausted horse and onto his. Soon they were back at a gallop, the other soldiers flanking their sides. Anna lost herself in the rhythmic thud of hoofs on snow-covered dirt, then startled as it abruptly changed to a clatter. Cobblestones.

They’d reached the castle by surprise, its walls and turrets made invisible by the whiteout. As they pulled to a stop in what she guessed was the front courtyard, Anna breathed a sigh of relief.

That was when the first arrow went whizzing by.

The commander’s horse neighed and reared. Anna was thrown backwards. She landed in a clump of snow and the world vanished for a few dizzy seconds. Then her head slowly righted itself, and she was assaulted by echoes of shouts and clanging steel. The Weideland guards were being attacked by shadows—other men—that lunged forward and back, in and out from the whiteout. Anna couldn’t count how many; the wind stung her eyes, making it hard to see. Her fingers were numb from where they were splayed in the snow behind her. She had to get out of here… Had to…

A rage-filled scream split the air.

Her stomach dropped.

Elsa.

Anna pushed herself up and ran. She skirted the edge of the battle, not caring about arrows, not caring about swords. Her sister was in danger. Trapped in an ending haze of white, she blindly followed the echo—followed the memory of the sound—and then stumbled.

Her foot had hit the front steps of the castle.

She paused, looking up. There were only twenty-five in all, but her whole body ached from the cold, muscles screaming to let herself fall to the ground and rest. Anna ignored her body and forced herself to climb. She pushed down on her thighs with each step to keep herself going. Up and up until she finally reached the top and half-fell, half-shoved herself onto the entrance doors.

They didn’t budge.

Her heartbeat spiked in panic.

Taking two steps back, she pulled together the last dredges of her strength and slammed her full weight into it.

The doors broke forward with a spray of ice. Anna fell to the floor, pain lancing through her left shoulder. Grunting in pain, she pushed herself onto her knees and elbows, looked up—

And froze.

It was the scene from her memories, only somehow so much worse.

Elsa and Hans circled each other in the center of the ice-covered entrance hall, their earlier attacks creating a minefield of frozen spikes and debris. Elsa’s hair had fallen lose from her braid, both of her arms were lacerated with shallow cuts, and she was breathing heavily. Hans looked relatively untouched by comparison, but his jacket and waist coat were missing and his half-buttoned shirt hung limp and ragged.

Neither of them seemed to have noticed Anna’s entrance.

Elsa suddenly snarled. Lunging forward, she sent a dagger-sharp icicle towards Hans who laughed—hollow and echoing—as he easily sidestepped the attack. Then, the sidestep turned into a simple spin, and with a small flick of his hand, the icicle was suddenly following Hans’ motions, turning with him, hurtling straight back towards Elsa—

“No!” Anna shouted.

Hans and Elsa’s heads snapped towards her. Their anger instantly dissipated, eyes going wide. They seemed to freeze, time grinding to a halt…

Hans’ attack didn’t freeze with them.

Anna tried to run, tried to fling herself in front of her sister like she’d done all those years ago, but her body wouldn’t move fast enough, wouldn’t even give her enough strength to let her push herself back onto her feet—

The icicle hit Elsa.

It pierced straight through her stomach. Elsa’s gaze didn’t leave Anna’s as her face went slack and her eyes glazed over. She swayed on her feet for moment, and then crumpled to floor.

Anna distantly heard a scream.

Her own.

She rushed to her sister’s side. Too late, too late, too late. “Elsa?” She clutched her sister’s hands, brushed the hair from her face. “Oh God, Elsa… Stay with me, please. _Please_ , stay with me.”

“Anna?” Elsa’s eyes focused weakly on the body hovering above her. “You’re not supposed to be here. You’re supposed to…”

“Shhh… I _am_ here, and that’s all that matters.”

Anna withdrew one hand and let its fingers trace over her sister’s stomach. The icicle was still lodged there, bleeding from the edges. Anna wanted to pull it out, wanted the foreign object _gone_ , but knew from her limited medical knowledge that doing so would just make the bleeding worse.

And so she sat there.

Useless.

Anna didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. If only Elsa had just stayed away… If only Anna hadn’t cried out, distracting her… But tossing the blame on either of them didn’t do _anything_ right now.

She felt her eyes start to burn with tears.

“You shouldn’t…” Elsa whispered, shaking her head. “It’s not… It’s not safe…”

Not safe.

The meaning of her words suddenly hit Anna, and she plunged back into reality.

Tearing her eyes away from her sister, Anna lifted her head towards the center of the entrance hall. Towards Hans. He was standing stock still in the spot where he’d delivered the fatal blow, staring at the two sisters with a sort of numb detachment.

“You did this,” Anna breathed.

Hans swallowed. His fingers twitched, posture stiff. He looked ready to bolt, ready to run. Looked just as confused and helpless as Anna felt.

Except he wasn’t.

“Save her,” Anna said.

Hans’ eyes regained a bit of focus. “What?”

“Please.” She didn’t care how pathetic she sounded. Didn’t care that he’d kicked her out of his life not even six hours earlier. She’d crawl on her knees for the devil himself if that’s what it took. “Save her.”

Hans continued staring for several moments, and then his face darkened. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

Anna forced herself to hold his gaze. They both knew that she knew _exactly_ what she was asking.

Hans broke first.

“Maybe you didn’t notice,”he snarled as he began to pace, “but she was trying to kill me too!” He jabbed a finger at Elsa. “The second I sacrifice myself for her, she’ll finish the job!”

“No, she won’t.”

“Oh, really? And what makes you so confident?”

Anna swallowed. “I won’t let her.”

Hans stopped his pacing. “Right.” He snorted and ran a hand down the side of his face. “Because that’s all I am to you. All I’ve ever been. A disposable possession. A task to be vanquished. I’ve always been your _responsibility_ , haven’t I?”

Anna felt a feather-light squeeze against her hand.

Elsa.

“Anna…” her sister whispered, near breathless. A thin line of blood trickled from her lips. “Run…”

Anna’s mouth hung wordlessly open, words hovering just out of reach. She wanted to tell Elsa that everything would be alright. That she’d fix this just like she’d always fixed everything else life had thrown at her before… Except that wasn’t true anymore. These days, everything Anna did just seemed to make the world worse and worse and worse…

“That’s right,” Hans said. “Listen to your sister. Run away from the terrible monster.”

Anna’s head snapped up. Tears were freely flowing down her face now; she couldn’t remember when they’d started. Her throat stung, clamping down on her voice, on her chest, as she struggled to get the next word out. “ _Please_.”

Hans sneered at her. Lacing his hands together behind his back, he spoke in clipped tones:

“Give me one good reason.”

Anna stared at him, unable to—

And then it hit her.

Her trump card.

Anna’s stomach sunk. Hans would never forgive her if she used it, and she didn’t want to use it— didn’t want to use _him_ like this… but Elsa didn’t have much time left. Her sister’s eyes had already slipped closed, her skin deathly pale and cold to the touch.

Limbs trembling, Anna locked her gaze on him. Green eyes met green.

“I love you,” she said, barely a whisper.

She saw the tension move through him.

“What.”

Anna took a stronger breath. Pleaded with herself to show as much warmth as possible. Prayed that Hans would see it as more than just a desperate, last minute trick. “I love you.”

She saw the second her words took full effect. His mask fractured into a thousand pieces. A thousand emotions all at war with one another.

Anna held her breath. Her sister’s life was now completely at the mercy of a man who didn’t know the meaning of the word. A man who hated her. Who hated everything she was and everything she stood for. It’d be easy, so so easy for him to turn away, to stand still and do nothing as the last flicker of life faded from her body. As Hans continued to hold still, Anna braced herself for the worse…

And then something broke in his eyes.

Hans crossed the hall and dropped to his knees. Keeping his gaze on Anna, he pressed both his hands to the sides of Elsa’s wound. Anna remained motionless across from him, frozen in both fear and hope. She kept her lungs still, terrified that even the smallest breath could break his concentration.

The icicle that had impaled her sister suddenly disappeared. Elsa cried out as the wound reopened, and her hand tightened around Anna’s. Ice encased it, binding them. Anna hissed against the stabbing cold but refused to jerk away.

Beneath the blood that now coated them, Hans’ hands had begun to glow—a golden light just below the skin, just as there’d been after his first bite of apple all those years ago. Elsa began to cough, and Hans mirrored her. He turned his face into the crook of his shoulder until the spasms passed. When he pulled away, the area of his shirt that his mouth had touched was stained red. Droplets clung to his lips.

More blood.

Anna reached for him with her free hand, but Hans stopped her with a glare.

“Don’t.”

She shrunk back. It’d been a very, _very_ long time, she suddenly realized, since she’d heard that level of coldness and hatred from him. Heard it directed towards her. _Had he_ ever _directed it towards her?_

Her hand dropped back to her side.

Hans’ eyes squeezed shut as his face slowly twisted in pain. The glow brightened. Elsa suddenly screamed, crushing Anna’s fingers beneath hers. Hans echoed her a second later. A light flashed, so searing that Anna was forced to cover her eyes and turn away.

Then nothing.

Keeping her spare hand over her eyes, Anna listened as her breath echoed in loud, heavy pants. The only sound in the hall.

The only life.

Her heart seemed to catch in her throat as she waited…

Then, the ice began to melt off her right hand, leaving behind tingling numbness. A gentle pressure threaded against her fingers—gently out, then even more gently back through—rubbing warmth back into them.

“Anna…?” Elsa’s voice croaked.

Anna slowly cracked one eye open, then the other.

Her sister was staring up at her, eyes clear but unfocused. Confused. A light sheen of sweat decorated her forehead. Down by her stomach, there was still a hole in her dress where the ice had pierced through but the skin was completely undamaged. Anna marveled at it blankly, her fingers ghosting over the area. She lowered them slowly, simultaneously terrified and drawn by the need to touch, until finally they brushed and felt nothing but warm skin.

Her sister was alive. Which meant…

Hans was still kneeling. His head was bowed, and his arms dangled limp on either side of him.

Anna swallowed. “Hans?” she ventured. Elsa’s hand instinctively tightened around hers, but Anna ignored it. “Hans, I…” Her throat was dry. She couldn’t think of the right words. She didn’t know if there _were_ any right words. “T-thank you.”

Hans flinched. As he slowly looked up, Anna stifled a gasp. The eyes that met hers were sunken and shadowed, an emptiness in them that she’d never seen before. Not in him.

Not in anyone.

Her chest suddenly ached. She was the one who’d done this to him…

 _No_ , the defiant survivor within her argued. _He’d done this to himself._

They remained staring at each other, unmoving, until Anna heard a click.

A series of clicks.

She turned her head. Rows and rows of soldiers had moved into the entrance hall, rogue attackers and Weideland defenders alike. They were positioned on all sides. At least half were armed with crossbows, the metal points gleaming in the dawn sunlight. They aimed them at each other in criss-crossing lines of fire that—if just one person accidentally triggered a panic—threatened to kill everyone in the room.

And Anna, Elsa, and Hans were caught directly in the center of it.


	45. Act Five: Part Twelve

Anna remained stock-still in the center of the entrance hall. From the corner of her eye, Elsa started to push herself up. The small motion triggered a flurry of movement, crossbows redirecting their aim. Her sister froze halfway to her feet, like a woodland animal facing down an army of seasoned hunters.

Hans, for his part, hadn’t moved. Anna didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t notice the legions of soldiers that were itching to kill one of them, or if he did and simply didn’t care.

As Anna held her position, a idle thought passed through her head that she should be scared—terrified even—but all she could grasp onto was anger. After everything she’d been put through, everything she’d put herself through… she was _not_ going to let a random crossbow bolt be the end of anyone.

And as soon as she thought it, she realized it was what she had to say.

Keeping carefully still, Anna took a deep breath. “My name is Anna,” she said, bracing for the twang of accidental fire. None came. “Princess of Arendelle. Queen of Weideland. And I command you— _all_ of you—to stand down!”

Half the soldiers broke from their ready formation. They looked at each other, obviously confused.

“I gave you an order,” Anna pressed.

Slowly, in discordant clumps, the crossbows lowered.

Anna smiled tightly. “Thank you.”

She stood, pulling Elsa gently up with her. Leaning against Anna for support, Elsa brushed a hand over her stomach. By the wide look in her eyes, she seemed to finally realize she was alive. And what that entailed.

Her gaze swept sideways. Stopped on Hans.

“You,” she breathed.

The temperature plunged, and several crossbows whipped back up.

“I said, stand down!” Anna yelled.

“But Your Majesty,” a Weideland soldier started. “The king—”

“Will be fine. My sister will be fine. No one is harming anybody. Got that?”

“Ha!” one of the rogue soldiers barked. His crossbow was aimed directly at Hans. “You should’ve told that to _him_! He’s already killed thousands.”

“Lies!” the Weideland soldier said. “Filthy propaganda to brainwash—!”

“You’re the one who’s brainwashed!”

Other soldiers joined in and the entrance hall quickly devolved into chaotic shouting. Anna tried to shout over them, tried to regain control of the situation, but her voice was buried in the noise.

She felt a grip on her arm.

Elsa.

“These men came here to fight,” her sister said beneath the cacophony. “To kill.” She glanced meaningfully at Hans. “You can’t defend the both of us.”

Anna sucked in an angry breath. “He just saved your life!”

Elsa looked lost for words for a moment. “Yes, he did,” she finally whispered. “ _After_ he almost just killed me.”

“But—”

“Your sister’s right,” Hans abruptly said, his first words since the sacrifice. Anna turned towards him. “Only one of us is getting out of here alive.”

“What?” Anna said. “No! What you did for Elsa… I can’t just stand back and—”

“Oh, save it for someone gullible.” He shook his head. “Dethroned. Powerless. You got what you wanted, so you can stop pretending to care.”

Anna swallowed, conscious of Elsa beside her. “I’m not pretending.”

She held his eyes as he stared up at her. Wanted to believe she saw a glimmer of understanding…

Then he ducked his head away, gaze focusing on the floor again.

Desperate to get through, Anna dropped to her knees beside him. The soldiers’ shouting died off at the motion, but their weapons remained raised.

“Anna?” Elsa whispered.

“What?”

“The Weideland soldiers are protecting him because they don’t know what he’s done. They won’t believe anything I say, but they might believe you. You need to tell them the truth. Get them to stand down.”

“Me? But I…”

Anna knew it’d be stupid and childish to refuse her sister, not when their lives were on the line, but she couldn’t find the coordination to comply either. She’d be stripping the last bit of Hans away from him. The loyalty of his people. Their adoration. It was what she’d wanted, all those months ago, but now that it was here… now that it was her choice, she… she…

She looked at Hans.

Lost.

“It’s okay,” he said.

Avoiding both her and Elsa’s gaze, he stood.

“Queen Elsa of Arendelle speaks the truth. I…” His fists clenched. “I was the one who summoned the summer blizzard five years ago. I did it to play the hero. To curry favor with the other royal families. I married Princess Josephine and after her death, after I was confident that her father would pass down the crown to me… I murdered him.”

A flurry of gasps and cries echoed around the room.

“Traitor!”

“—forced him to confess! Sire, don’t let them—”

“How do we know—?”

“—killed the king!”

A sharp whistling suddenly pierced the air. A bolt of metal.

Anna tried to scream. Didn’t have time to.

There was a sharp chink as a shield of ice erupted from the floor and trapped the arrow head deep within. Elsa stood with both arms extended—one towards the ice shield, the other towards a young soldier. Younger than Anna. He was frozen against the wall behind him.

“My sister was right,” Elsa said, slowly and clearly. “No one’s harming anyone else.” As she paused, looking at each soldier in turn, Anna’s heart raced with hope. Then Elsa turned towards Hans. “Not without a trial first. Hans Westergaard, according the crimes you’ve just confessed, I hereby charge you both with murder and with treason against the Kingdom of Weideland.”

Anna’s stomach dropped.

There was no way Hans would be getting anything less than a death sentence, not after he’d just confessed his guilt to a full room of witnesses. Anna watched blankly as he let several of Elsa’s soldiers approach, let them pull his hands forward and clap them in irons. Along the walls, the Weideland soldiers seemed equally helpless. After a couple adjustments to make sure his restraints were secure, Elsa’s soldiers led Hans away.

He didn’t look back towards Anna once.

* * *

Anna shivered as she laid awake in bed, staring at the dark ceiling. She hadn’t realized how used she’d gotten to having another body in her bed until these past couple days. Despite her best efforts, she kept dozing off, kept jolting back awake, kept reaching out for a body that was no longer there… a body that was probably shivering like she was right now, down in dungeons…

The summer festival was officially over. Had been the moment Elsa’d revealed herself to the general public and had taken charge. All of the ex-royals had agreed to stay in the castle and serve as Hans’ upcoming jury. Everyone else had been kicked out. Politely.

Rapunzel and Eugene kept their festival suite, while Elsa claimed two others nearby: one for her and one for Anna.

Anna had accepted the change of rooms without protest. She still still waffled back and forth over whether she should’ve said _something_ —it felt weird, letting Elsa decide thing in a castle that still felt very much hers—but it’d probably feel even weirder to return to the royal suite and sleep up there as though nothing had happened. As though she hadn’t just indirectly sentenced its other occupant to death.

Because, despite the trial not happening yet, it _was_ a death sentence. Every day, it felt more and more a certainty. Through snatches of overheard conversations, the other ex-royals—now _ex_ -ex-royals?—were chomping at the bit to throw Hans before the executioner’s noose. Or blade. Or firing squad. They shared a lot of detailed fantasies amongst each other that Anna was constantly trying to forget.

The clock beside her bed continue to tick out low, steady minutes. Anna lifted her hands to her chest and began to fiddle with her wedding ring. It’d stayed in her dress pocket, surviving her jump into the harbor and all the events thereafter. She only wore it at night, not having the courage slip it back on beneath Elsa’s disdainful watch.

Anna wondered what went on in her sister’s head. They both kept busy, only meeting up for dinner at the end of each day (something that wasn’t for Anna’s lack of trying). Half the time, Elsa would sit in silence as Anna made her hesitant pleas for mercy. The other half, she’d pace the room as it got steadily colder and colder, muttering her regrets over delaying Hans’ inevitable execution for the short week that she had.

Because that’s all it was—a delay. The trial was a formality, Elsa’s way of keeping herself morally pure. Hans was going to die, and Anna…

Anna would be a widow, she guessed. But widows wore black and were old and spent the rest of their lives grieving and that didn’t feel like Anna at all. She twisted her wedding ring, round and round and round… Maybe the disconnect was because she’d always expected Hans to be immortal and outlive her? But that didn’t make sense because she had married Hans with intention of leeching his powers and turning him mortal. Him dying had always been one of those inadvertent end goals.

So why was it now tearing at her the way that it did?

Anna groaned and tossed her arms out to the side. She knew the sad, pathetic answer to that easy question:

She loved him.

Ugh, she was the worse future widow of all time, just lying around and _waiting_ for her husband to die. Of course, it wasn’t like there was anything she could do. Elsa had carved out time from her general business to lay down strict rules regarding the dungeons and who was allowed visitation (namely _not_ Anna), Anna doubted her ability to get past the guards on her own, Hans’ powers were gone and, with them, no more magic left for last minute miracles—

Anna froze.

But that wasn’t true, was it?

Just because Hans’ magic was gone didn’t mean all magic was gone.

Of course… just because there _was_ magic didn’t mean Anna had a right to use it. There was a big difference between begging for mercy and circumventing the law entirely. Justice was supposed to be neutral. Equal. Encompassing. It was up to _all_ of the people that Hans had hurt to decide his fate, not just…

Screw it.

Anna wasn’t neutral and neither was anyone else. At the end of the day, all she knew was that she’d been through hell and she deserved _something_ for it. Decision settling into place like a clear weight, Anna pushed herself off her guest bed, tied a light shawl around her shoulders, and padded silently down the hallway towards Rapunzel’s suite.

* * *

Anna spent the next two hours in Rapunzel’s room, locked in fierce debate. From there, it was four flights of stairs down to the kitchens where Eugene helped Anna filch a late night meal out from under the cooks’ wary eyes and then, afterwards, chatted up the two guards at the dungeons’ entrance while she silently slipped past.

The temperature slowly dropped as she descended deeper and deeper beneath the main castle. Sputtering torches lit the way forward. Anna caught herself glancing backwards every third step or so, paranoid that Elsa’d had someone watching her, that she’d been followed, but no. It was just the regular, non-magical cold that came from being below ground, buried in the sunless earth.

She slipped Rapunzel’s silver ring off her thumb and kept walking.

Empty cell after empty cell greeted her. The kingdom hadn’t suffered much crime beneath Hans’ rule. Anna still had no idea whether the lack of criminals had been because of anything Hans had done directly or if it’d just been one more side-effect of the general prosperity his policies had caused.

Finally, she reached her destination. Behind the cell bars, Hans’ ankles were loosely chained, locked onto a bolt that’d been jammed into the floor. His arms were free.He sat with his knees propped up, head and hands resting atop them. The same shirt he’d been wearing the last day of the festival hung from his thin frame. His face was turned away from cell door.

Anna started to speak, tried to say his name. Nothing came out. She coughed instead.

He turned towards her.

Kept his silence.

Anna flinched. Her grip tightened on the food basket that’d been part of her disguise as she dredged her mind for something profound, some apology that’d make the moon itself cry. But all that came out was: “I’m helping you escape.”

More silence.

“Why the change of heart?” he finally asked.

Anna swallowed. She knew there’d been resistance, a grating of one stone-like personality against the other. “It’s not a change of heart.”

“Right. Because here I was thinking between the fake marriage and the poison and the—”

Anna groaned. “Look, just because I didn’t want you to be a god anymore, doesn’t mean I wanted—” She took a deep breath and fought to urge to chuck one of her food basket’s eggs at him. “I don’t want you dead. Okay?”

Hans lifted his head from his knees. He stared at her for a long moment before re-settling back against the far wall. He crossed his arms. “I guess that makes it all better then.”

Anna nearly screamed in frustration. Here she was, flaunting the law and risking Elsa’s wrath to save his ungrateful life and— And she was wasting too much time. Despite Eugene self-assured confidence that he was the world’s greater smooth talker, Anna pegged him half an hour before the guards got suspicious.

Tops.

She put the food basket down and began to fumble around in her cloak. Her fingers closed around her lock pick set, metal cold against her fingers. She took it out and started going at the door.

“Don’t bother,” Hans said as she nudged past the first tumble. “It’s pointless.”

“Pointless? Come on, you know me better than that. Lock pick expert these days, remember?” As if to prove her point, luck intervened and she broke through the next three in a row. The cell door swung open.

Hans didn’t react.

Anna sighed as she stepped in. Now she really was on a timer. If a guard passed by, she wasn’t going to be able to explain this away. She knelt down next to his ankles. Hans didn’t move or shift to make the locks more accessible, so she had to stretch around awkwardly to reach them.

“I wasn’t talking about you,” Hans said.

“Huh?” she said, fiddling with the right manacle

“I was talking about me.”

Anna paused, lock pick stuck halfway in. Hans was giving her one of his usual grins, but there was something empty and tired about it.

His eyes flicked up at the dungeon ceiling. At the world beyond. “Not like I have much to go back to.”

Anna steeled herself. “I know…” she said slowly. “But that doesn’t mean you have to— I mean, so what if you don’t have Weideland anymore? You can make a new name for yourself. Or better yet, don’t make a name, don’t make a reputation, don’t… anything. Just _live_.”

Hans snorted. “Not so simple.”

“Yes, it is!” Anna snapped. Her eyes widened, her own intensity surprising her. She tried again. “I don’t care what you do, but I’m not letting you just roll over and kill yourself!”

“Well, I’m not, am I?” Hans muttered, lips curling into a hint of a snarl. “Someone else is going to be swinging the blade. Someone your sister will assign.”

This time Anna was the silent one.

“She should’ve let that soldier kill me right then and there.” Hans continued. “Would’ve been quick, clean… But no, she’s going ahead with this farce of a trial. I suppose it makes sense though, that she’d want to make my final humiliation and defeat as public as possible.”

Anna suddenly found her voice again. “No, that’s not it at all!”

Hans lifted an eyebrow, prompting.

Anna swallowed. “Elsa wants… She wants…” Anna wanted to say ‘justice’ but the word wasn’t coming out. It was important, she knew, to have a trial. To have a _group_ of people passing a sentence, deciding someone’s fate… But was it really justice when everyone already knew what the ending was going to be?

It was why she was currently here, at any rate.

Anna silently returned to the manacles and her lock pick to distract herself from uncomfortable thoughts, but Hans grabbed her wrist, stopping her again.

“Don’t,” he said. “I know you want— Actually, I have no idea what you want, but it’s pointless. Even if I escape, every single person in the nearest twelve kingdoms knows my face.” He gave her a sardonic grin. “I made sure of that.”

“Oh. That’s no problem. That’s why we’re giving you a different face.”

Hans blinked at her, shocked for the first time since her arrival. “What?”

Anna pulled out the silver ring that she’d worn for the trip downstairs. “There’s an enchantment on this that Elsa and the others found while they were searching for—” _Searching for a way to destroy you._ Anna cleared her throat. “An enchantment that disguises the wearer as someone else. The magic’s small enough that they’ve been able to keep a couple faces on spare. I used this one to get in here.” Anna nodded at the food basket she’d left by the cell door. “You can use it to get out.”

“And then what?”

“Whatever you want.” Anna paused. “Within reason.”

Hans snorted. “Right. So I’m just supposed to waltz off and live my life along your invisible lines of good?” He shook his head. “You should know by now that I’ve never been the best at sensing those.”

Anna ignored the taunt. “I had to ask Rapunzel for the ring,” she continued. “I told her what I was going to do, and she believed in me when I said that I believed in…” She looked away, chest heavy. “Before she let me have the ring, I had to promise her I’d keep you with me. That I’d be your… But it’s okay if you run. I’ll say you knocked me out. That I have no idea where— That is, I understand if you don’t… if you don’t…” If he didn’t love her anymore.

Hans stared, green eyes searching hers.

Then his head turned sharply to the side. “Oh, please,” he sneered. “As if I’m supposed to believe letting me run is some grand gesture on your part. I know you don’t want me with you.”

“That’s not true!” Anna snapped.

She froze.

Hans stiffened.

Oh God.

She wasn’t supposed to have said that— Or was she? She’d spent so long bottling her true emotions inside, that she wasn’t sure she knew how to just _feel_ anymore. The things she needed to hide… the things she risked losing… They’d all blurred into one, giant, chaotic mess.

“Just so we’re both remembering correctly,” Hans said, “four days ago, you told me you’d rather die than be with me. Told me that you only married me to help dethrone me. Then, when I said you could leave, you left. Instantly.”

Anna winced. “I came back?”

“To save your sister.”

“To save _both_ of you.”

Hans kicked lightly, jostling his chains. “And look how great that turned out.”

“Hey! I’m trying, okay? And it’s not like you made any of this particularly easy, you know.”

“Oh, wait. And then, when your sister was dying, it wasn’t enough to ask for my help, wasn’t enough to plead… Oh no… You had to stare into my eyes and _lie_.” He chuckled. “And for a second I was stupid enough to believe it.”

Anna’s breath caught.

“I didn’t lie,” she said softly.

Hans’ eyes squeezed shut. “Stop,” he pleaded. “I can take everything else. I _have_ taken everything else. But that… I—” His voice broke, and he swallowed.

Frustration sparked through her. Anna grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “I. Didn’t. Lie.”

As they continued to stare at one another, Anna felt her stomach begin to churn. He _had_ to believe her. Simply had to—

Hans laughed. He tugged away and looked towards the wall. “Like I’m suppose to believe that,” he said. He held up his left hand, then tossed a glance at her barren one. “The moment you got to throw your ring, your shackle”—he kicked his leg again, making the chains clink—“back at me was probably the greatest moment in your entire life. Or one of them. I mean, I can only guess it’s up there somewhere between the time that you saved your sister from my blade or the time that you punched me off the deck of that ship right afterwards or the time—”

_Oh, for the love of…_

Anna reached into her pocket.

“—and it’s probably lost forever in that muck,” he continued, oblivious to her movements. “Or not forever. I’m sure some lucky townsman will find it _eventually_ and pawn it for some—”

Anna grabbed Hans’ wrist. Yanking it towards her, she deposited the small, gold band into center of his palm.

He stopped.

Stared at it.

Anna took a deep, exasperated breath. “You were saying?”

He turned it slowly over in his hands. Examined every last curve of it.

Finally, he looked back up at Anna. “You…?”

“I know this doesn’t really fix anything I did,” she said, her voice trembling. “And I know it really doesn’t fix anything _you_ did, but…” Anna curled her hands together into her lap. “I never lied. Not about that. And… And I don’t want you to die.”

They stared at each other, and then Hans turned abruptly away. He held himself very still for a second, five seconds, ten… and then his shoulders began to shake. There was a sound like a hiccup.

Oh God.

He wasn’t even drunk this time.

Anna reached out a cautious hand and brushed it lightly against his shoulder. When he didn’t pull away, she wrapped her arms around him and drew him close.

“What have I done?” he asked, voice muffled from where it was pressed against her servant’s vest.

Anna buried her own face against the warm collar of his shirt. “You mean beside becoming a god and conquering half of the continent and stupidly falling in love with someone who ended up being just as stupid and messed up enough to love you back?”

Hans let out a broken laugh. Her grip around him tightened.

“The truth is,” she continued, “neither of us can do anything about the past, just the future. So…” Anna drew back and took her wedding ring from his palm, replacing it with the silver one. Her fingers curled around his, and this time he didn’t jerk away. Her stupid heart did a little flip. Anna swallowed. “…will you let me help you?”

* * *

Anna sat at her desk in her temporary room, scanning over the latest documents that the Chief Minister had sent for her review. Her capped fountain pen traced the lines of text, mirroring the path of her eyes. No one had quite realized how much policy Hans had chewed through on a daily basis until his imprisonment. With the dissolution of one kingdom into thirteen again, paperwork was stacking up and up and the resident castle bureaucrats were feeling the heat. It hadn’t been a full twenty-four hours before the first knock had sounded on Anna’s door. Independent of common public perception, the resident government staff already missed their workhorse of a king and, in their desperation to keep the country running, had quickly turned to the next best thing:

His protégé.

Halfway down the last page of the document, the temperature sharply dropped. Anna pulled her cotton shrug further up over her shoulders and kept reading.

Her bedroom door slammed open seconds later.

“Where is he?!” Elsa demanded.

Anna looked up blankly. “What?”

She’d be overplaying the cluelessness by asking ‘who.’

Elsa rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Anna, I don’t have time to play games. I know what Hans— I know you’ve been emotionally compromised, and I know I shouldn’t blame you for that, but…”

Anna felt herself both bristling with indignation and drippingly mortified. How could her sister think so little of her and… and…

And still be one-hundred percent correct. Her stomach dropped. Maybe she _was_ compromised and—

No. Both Rapunzel and Eugene had gotten behind Anna’s plan, so she was fine. Granted it’d taken hours and hours of debate to _okay_ said plan, but at the end of the day, an okay’ed plan was an okay’ed plan. Anna wasn’t crazy.

Or, at least not _totally_ crazy.

She had supporters.

A whole two of them.

Elsa seemed to take Anna’s silence as an admission of guilt. “You were the one who wanted this,” she said. “You and me both, and I just—!” Ice fractured around her feet and she took a calming breath. “He’s getting a trial. One year ago you wouldn’t have even cared if he’d gotten that. Why can’t you see, I’m doing my best to—?”

“It’s not a trial,” Anna muttered.

“What?”

“A trial’s not a trial if everyone already knows how it will end.”

Elsa stared at her sister for a long moment, and then sighed. “Anna, sometimes there are people who… people who fill themselves with so much evil and hate that there’s only one way it _could_ end.”

“So much evil and hate that he gave up everything he ever wanted to save your life?”

“That’s not…” Elsa looked away. “I know what he did for me. I’m not trying to erase it. And I know judgements should consider _everything_ that a person…” Her lips pressed into a quivering frown as her hand swept over her stomach—pressed over the spot where the icicle had torn through—and then her face hardened. “But that doesn’t change the past. It doesn’t change the fact that his actions have killed hundreds, maybe thousands. I  know it’s not something you can understand, but as a queen, it’s my duty to ensure that my personal feelings don’t hold anymore weight than the common man’s.”

“Something I can’t understand?” Anna snapped, standing. “I’ve been a queen too!”

“You weren’t—” Elsa started exasperatedly before abruptly going quiet.

“What?” Anna said. “A real queen? Say it.”

The two sisters stared at each other, barely leashed arguments hovering just at the back of their throats.

Elsa finally let out a dismissive scoff. “This is ridiculous. Don’t you see, Anna? He has us fighting each other now and if you’re too—” She paused, recollecting herself. “I’m only trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting anymore.”

“Anna…”

Anna remained silent and then—a sudden idea striking—gathered up all of her papers and bundled them into her arms. “Follow me.”

“What?”

“Follow me.”

Anna swept out of the room. She wasn’t sure whether her sister was indeed following, but she was still too incensed to glance behind and check. Taking the nearest stairwell down to the ground floor, she made her way towards the southern wing: home to all of the kingdom’s ministers and advisers and auditors and really anyone who was anyone. Its corridors were packed, servants both domestic and government scurrying between various destinations unknown. The fall of Hans had spun the kingdom into chaos.

Just as Anna had unconsciously known it would.

Seeing as everyone was still going about business as usual, Anna guessed news of Hans’ escape hadn’t penetrated the castle’s inner gossip networks yet. The fallout would probably throw at least another dozen wrenches into the already chaotic system. Luckily, plans were being made to avert any succession crisis…

Anna reached the office door of the Chief Minister and knocked.

“Anna,” Elsa whispered. “What are you doing? These people are busy and—”

The Chief Minster opened the door. He blinked for a moment and then broke into a grin. “Oh, Your Majesty! Done reviewing my draft already? Everything up to snuff?”

“As far as I could tell,” Anna said cheerfully, handing over the documents with her notes on them. “It’s well balanced, just like you said. Also, nice bit about establishing a national holiday to increase participation. The only thing I’d possibly…” She scrunched her nose. “I’m not sure how I feel about keeping the executive power to declare war. Maybe give that to the cabinet instead? A unanimous vote? To be on the safe side.”

The minister nodded as he flipped through the first couple pages. “Yes, yes… Quite agree.” He glanced back up and paused, finally noticing Elsa. “Oh, Your Majesty. Didn’t see you there.” He turned back to Anna. “Your Majesty,” he repeated. His face softened. “Do take care.”

Anna smiled softly. “I am.”

The door closed.

“What was…?” Elsa finally asked.

“Revised constitution,” Anna replied simply. “We’re thinking it’s probably best to end the line of succession and let the people of Weideland decide their new king for themselves. You know, voting… elections… It worked really well in Ancient Roma. Well, at least until Iulius Cesaro yanked power away from the Senate and—” She caught herself. “It worked really well for a couple of centuries.”

“Elections? But Count Greben is next in line… You can’t just make this decision without him.”

“Why not?”

“It’s his right.”

“His right,” Anna echoed. She felt a memory of Hans sift to the top of her thoughts. “Just because he was born into a certain family? Because he was born before his siblings? What if he’s not even good at ruling?”

“Anna, you know it’s more complicated than that—”

“Is it?”

“Yes. You talking about the entire basis for— Wait. Stop. I came here to talk about Hans and if you think you can distract—” Elsa stopped, glanced around the busy hallway. “Why is the minister even talking to you abut this anyway?”

Anna shrugged. “He knows me. Wanted another pair of eyes.”

“Your eyes? On a revised constitution?” Elsa looked ready to groan. “Anna, what could you possibly know about…” She looked around the hallway again, conscious of the half dozen clerks who’d stopped, who were now staring at them, and then pulled her sister down a side corridor devoid of people. “Is this why you brought me here?” she whispered. “To show me that you’re not helpless? Anna, I _know_ you’re not helpless. I’ve never once doubted your intelligence or your ability to— But this isn’t about that.”

“Yes! Yes, it is and you know it! Just because I’m impulsive sometimes and… and I let myself _feel_ things, doesn’t mean that I don’t think about them too! You think this is just some snap decision I made off the top of my head because I’m silly and can’t control my own emotions? It’s not! It’s…”

Anna took a deep breath and stared at her sister.

Her sister stared back.

“If— If I did help him escape,” Anna suddenly said, “what would you do to me?”

Elsa blinked. “What? Anna, that’s not…”

“Imprison me in his place?”

“No, I—”

“Put me on trial? Execute me?”

“No!”

“But I helped a murderer escape.” Anna pouted. “According to the law, that’s what my punishment should be.”

“You know I could never…” Elsa reached out, clasping a hand on Anna’s shoulder. “You’re my sister.”

Anna cooly held her sister’s gaze. “And he’s my husband.”

Elsa frowned for a moment. And then her eyes dropped for the first time to where Anna’s hands were clutched together in front of her. Anna’s wedding band glinted beneath the light of the wall-mounted gas lamps.

“Anna,” Elsa said. “You can’t… He’s a monster. Think of all the people who are dead because of him.”

“I know, but there’s also—” Anna stopped herself as Hans’ speeches suddenly replayed themselves in her head. All of his talk about the greater good, of lowered crime rates and no more war or famine or any those things that killed thousands— _tens of thousands_ —a year on their own… But his lectures had fallen flat even when the silver-tongued master himself had been giving them, and somehow Anna doubted they’d sound anymore convincing coming from her.

But still… it was more than that. More than the excuses and justifications that Hans spun himself to keep everything nice and tidy in his head. Anna knew, if Hans remained alive, there was a possibility of good from him, of… not redemption exactly, but of using his skills to make the world better than it currently was today.

As long as he had the right supervision, of course.

“He needs to pay for his crimes, Anna,” Elsa said flatly, dragging her back to reality.

Anna shuffled her feet. “He _will_ pay for them.”

_One day._

Elsa was not pleased with that response. Her face set into a sullen glower and the temperature dropped colder and colder until Anna’s breath began to fog…

There was a cough.

“Umm… excuse me, Your Majesty,” a thin clerked squeaked from the entrance to the main hall. “Your Majesties? There are a lot of people nearby and we’re all trying to work and… well…” He shivered, exaggerating the movement.

“Oh!” Elsa said, suddenly flustered. A blush spread across her cheeks as the chill instantly dissipated. “I’m sorry. I’m usually better at…”

The clerk bowed his thanks and vanished.

Anna hugged her arms. Scuffed a foot against the hallway tile.

“I suppose,” Elsa finally started, her voice weary, “I can overlook… and just trust that you… I want to trust you, Anna. I really do.”

“You can.”

“But… Hans…”

“Gave up everything he had for me. For you. He deserves a second chance.”

Anna began to brace herself for the umpteenth argument on the subject when her sister’s shoulders suddenly slumped.

“Maybe.” It was all the answer she gave; it was all the answer Anna needed. Elsa sighed. “And I’m sure things will get better after we leave for Arendelle next week,” she said. “It will feel good to be home.”

Anna bit her lip. She didn’t want to hurl another cannonball through their fragile understanding, but lying about her current intentions would just make the situation worse later.

“I’m staying here,” Anna said.

Elsa’s eyes widened, her face slack with betrayal.

“It has nothing to do with Hans,” Anna quickly added. “It’s just— They need me. You saw the Chief Minister. I know the kingdom now. I know how it runs. I can help make sure it gets back on track without any fighting.”

“But… Arendelle is your home. We’ve gone for so long…”

“Don’t worry,” Anna said with a weak smile. “I’ll come visit after the elections.”

“Visit,” Elsa said dully. “But not stay.”

“I- I don’t know,” Anna admitted. “Arendelle _is_ my home… but so is Weideland now. And Corona. They’re all my homes. I can’t pick just one, and… and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.”

Elsa held Anna’s gaze for a long moment, and then looked away. Her hands twisted together in front of her. “All I want is for you to be happy,” she said. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Happy and safe.”

Anna relaxed at that. She reached forward and pulled her sister into a light hug. “I know.”

They remained in each other’s loose embrace until there was another cough behind them.

Another clerk.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty,” he said. “But the Chief Treasurer heard you were nearby and was wondering if you had any opinions on our newest trade proposal.” The man passed a stack of papers into Anna’s automatically outstretched hands. “Many of the kingdoms liked the tax-free provisions on imports and exports and were wondering if they could stay within some sort of unified economic block.”

Anna nodded. “I’ll try to have my comments back to him before dinner.

She waved goodbye to the clerk as he retreated, bowing and stumbling every third step.

Elsa frowned. Her eyes slipped towards the new stack of papers in Anna’s hands.

“What?” Anna said.

“Nothing,” Elsa responded instantly. Then she flinched. “I’m sorry. It’s just… It’s like you’ve become a different person.”

Anna shrugged self-consciously. Then she paused and thought about it for a moment.

Really thought about it.

“Nope,” Anna said with a warm burst of realization. “I’m the same Anna that was always there. I’m just not sure I knew it.”

Elsa regarded her steadily. “Just promise me you’ll stay safe.”

Anna knew better than to promise anything like that anymore, but she smiled all the same. “I’ll do the best I can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, the train is finally pulling into the final station. Just one, short-ish epilogue left. I can't begin to describe how grateful I am having all of you as faithful readers. Y'all are the reason I ever managed to make it this far. <3


	46. Epilogue

**One Year Later**

Anna stepped out of her carriage and straight into the citywide preparations for Rapunzel’s upcoming birthday. Purple and gold exploded everywhere she looked. Servants hustled this way and that. It was chaos… but it was sorta nice kind of chaos. Even though she'd been gone the last two months, Anna didn’t need or want the attention of a grand Welcome Back ceremony. It was good to be unnoticed.

 _Although…_ she suddenly thought, as she barely avoided getting smacked by the backend of an armful of curtains—and then again by some maids as they transported boulder-sized plants from one end of the castle courtyard to the other—perhaps there was such a thing as being  _too_ unnoticed.

Anna sighed. After nearly two decades not knowing whether their only daughter was dead or alive, she couldn’t blame her aunt and uncle for their annual over-exuberance.

Deciding that the best way to help was to keep out of the way, Anna headed up to the small study on the third floor. It was empty. She frowned and then checked the bedroom next—both bedrooms—to equally disappointing results. After closing the door, Anna pivoted in the hallway for a bit, trying to think where else he could be.

Outside in the stables, she ran into Rapunzel.

“Anna!” Rapunzel said, smiling at her cousin as she braided purple ribbons into Maximus’ hair. “Welcome back! How was Arendelle?”

“Oh, you know…” Anna said, glancing around the other stalls for a possible glimpse of either brown or orange hair. Nothing. “It was Arendelle.”

Rapunzel looked at her pointedly as if to say, no, she didn’t know.

Anna sighed. “So I think Elsa understands _logically_ why I can’t be there all the time anymore, but that doesn’t stop her from trying her darndest to convince me every _single_ time… She made me an entire ice funpark this time!”

“Funpark?”

“I don’t know. That’s what Olaf was calling it. There were all these climbing platforms and circular spinny things and these super tall slides that dropped you straight into the fjord…” Anna briefly tried to describe the structures with sweeping gestures of her hands before giving up. “I don’t know. It was fun, but…”

Rapunzel silently tied off another braid. “There’s more to life than just fun?” she eventually ventured.

Anna frowned. The thought sounded downright depressing when Rapunzel phrased it that way, but… “Yeah, I guess.”

Rapunzel nodded. “And… Kristoff?”

Anna let out another sigh she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Friends. Thankfully.” There were still so many things left unsaid, so many things they probably should’ve _been_ said given how long they’d been together before… well, before everything, but neither of them had felt the need. “And I think we’re both fine with it staying that way.”

“That’s good to hear,” Rapunzel said with a soft smile.

They both lapsed into silence. Rapunzel finished two more braids. Anna started to twist her wedding ring.

“Do you know where…?” Anna finally asked.

Rapunzel shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Figured.

Glad for the opportunity to catch up but still determined to find the person she’d originally set out to find, Anna waved goodbye to her cousin and continued on her way. After a few more failed tries, Anna finally came to a stop at the entrance to the castle’s northern parapets. She hung back in its open frame, ignoring the wind as it tugged at the door, trying to slam it shut again. A lean figure leaned against the edge, staring out over the ocean, apparently oblivious to her presence. Anna took the opportunity to stare. Took in the gentle bounce of his auburn hair, his delicate sloping nose, deep forest green eyes…

“You shouldn’t be out here without your ring,” Anna said.

Hans glanced over. His lips twisted. “Welcome home to you too.”

Anna internally groaned and ran a hand over her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound…” She took a quick breath. “I just want to you to stay safe.”

Hans looked like he was about to snap back a retort, but then he returned his gaze towards the sea. “I know.”

Anna winced.

Her hand trembled. It was still on the doorknob, and she _hated_ starting conversations between them off on the wrong foot, but she knew from experience that turning around and running now would just make everything worse when they inevitably met up again later. Steeling herself in anticipation of the awkwardness of doing the ‘mature’ thing, Anna let the wind shove the door shut behind her and made her way to Hans’ side. She rested her arms against the parapet and stared out at the horizon with him.

It was summer, and it was supposed to be warm, but the wind today apparently hadn’t got that memo. It pushed and pulled at her braids, at her dress, at everything. She shivered despite herself.

“Here,” Hans said, taking off his jacket.

“Oh, no. You don’t have to—”

But he was already draping it around her shoulders. And it _was_ warm, and the weight was comfortable, so she didn’t protest.

“How was Arendelle?” he finally asked after a long moment.

“Oh, you know…” Anna shrugged. She shifted uncomfortably, realizing she was stumbling into an exact mirror of the conversation she’d just had with Rapunzel, and if she found herself trying to explain to what a funpark was again…

But Hans seemed to accept her non-answer as an answer and didn’t press to elaborate.

“How was Corona?” Anna asked. She risked a glance sideways, but he was still looking at the water. Not her.

“Oh,” he said nonchalantly. “You know…”

Anna pouted. She knew Hans had intentionally matched her vagueness just because, and a part of her was curious for the actual truth… But seeing as he was currently standing here and had _not_ been caught by anyone yet, Anna could pretty much imagine _exactly_ how the past two months had gone for him—taxes, taxes, and more taxes.

Part of Anna’s deal with her cousin regarding Hans’ escape had rested on him eventually becoming the master of Corona’s finances. Despite being a high honor for practically anyone else, it was a position that Hans constantly grumbled about—“nothing more than a glorified clerk”—and they were grumbles that Anna never quite knew how to respond to. She knew that it was hard for him, knew his satisfaction would bleed out sooner rather than later, but—at the same time—knew he deserved much worse…

The deepest cutting irony had come during the first six months, when Rapunzel and Eugene wouldn’t let the staff see any of Hans’ proposals until they’d been reviewed by Anna first. Hans had accepted their terms with a casual shrug, but he couldn’t hide the slight stiffness of his shoulders from Anna. Or the slight tick of his jaw. It’d gotten slowly better since then, Hans given more independence with each passing month, especially over more minor policies. He was even starting to make a name for himself among certain financial circles… or rather, make a name for the stranger whose face he now publicly wore.

Anna looked down at Hans’ fingers. They were splayed over the parapet stones in front of him, pale skin against white stone. Covering one hand with her own, she slowly began to trace its length, knuckle by knuckle. He’d pocketed his disguise ring somewhere but still wore his wedding band. She ran a fingertip over it, feeling the smoothness of the metal.

“I miss you,” Hans whispered.

Anna blinked and looked up confused. “I’m right here.”

“Not all the time,” he said, leaning against her.

Realization hit her. She bit her lip. Despite still feeling a bit guilty admitting it… “I do too,” she replied softly.

They were together—they’d be silly not to, given their mutual feelings—but the rest of the world didn’t know that. The rest of the world _couldn’t_ know that. Not while it was still so dangerous. And so they took their small comforts where they could, stealing kisses and touches and everything else when no one else was looking.

Hans pressed his nose against her hair. “It doesn’t have to be all or nothing,” he whispered. “Easy enough to have William Schultz the Accountant be the one courting Princess Anna of Arendelle. No one would know.”

Anna swallowed. “Elsa would know.”

Hans stiffened.

“That’s not what I—” she quickly said, but he was already pulling away. Anna groaned again. “I’m not saying I need her approval. It’s just, if she knew, then the other royals would know and maybe some of them are okay with you being wherever and doing whatever, but most of them aren’t and they still want you dead and guess what?! You’re not immortal anymore!”

“Yeah?” Hans muttered. “And whose fault is that?”

Anna flinched.

Hans’ eyes immediately widened. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah. You did… and that’s okay.”

Anna slowly reached over and drew his hand back to hers. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pull away either. Far to the west, the sun continued to set. Clouds drifted past all pink and purple. The last few incoming ships cast long shadows across the water as they made their way to the harbor for the night. Seagulls circled distantly, calling out to each other the same echoing squawks.

A lump settled uncomfortably in Anna’s chest.

“Do you regret it?” she asked.

She felt him sigh beside her. “You keep asking, but the answer’s never going to change.” He turned his head towards her, meeting her eyes. “Not for one moment.”

“But—”

“Look. I’m not lying and saying it was everything I ever wanted, but regret…” He looked down as he curled his free hand in front of him. Anna recognized the gesture, remembered when it’d produced fire at will. His palm remained empty. “Regret is something different,” he finally said. He looked back at her and dropped his hand. “You’re here. And I’m here. And that’s enough.”

“Is it?”

Hans nodded. “For now.”

The conditional should’ve filled her with trepidation, but it didn’t. Anything else would’ve been a lie.

“Do you regret marrying me?” he asked.

Anna remained silent. To this day, she still had no idea _exactly_ how Hans felt about her betrayal and all the powers she’d ripped away from him. No idea exactly how that pain was currently twisted together with his love… But if she had to guess, she’d guess it was similar to the way she felt—a convoluted snarl of emotions that’d probably never be perfectly unravelled into strictly ‘good’ and strictly ‘bad’ again.

“No,” Anna finally said. “Not regret.” She thought for a moment, weighing Hans’ current mood against his ability to take a joke. “But I will say everything would’ve been a _hell_ of a lot easier if you’d just gone through with the wedding the first time around.”

Hans snorted beside her. His hand left hers to curl around her side. Pulling her close, he pressed a small kiss against the side of her hair.

“Can’t argue with that,” he said.

It wasn’t an apology, and that was okay. He’d given her plenty of apologies for that—for everything, really—over the past year. Anna still wasn’t sure whether or not she should’ve accepted them like she had, if simple apologies were supposed to be enough, if they’d _ever_ be enough… but Anna was frankly tired of “should’ve”s and “supposed to”s.

They were good enough for her, and that was all that mattered.

Anna nestled deeper into her husband’s side. Leaning the top of her head against his neck, she breathed in deep, burying her senses in his scent. Like he’d said earlier, he was here, and she was here…

…and she was happy.

True, she had no idea just how long that happiness would last, but it was working for now. And as for tomorrow…

Anna smiled to herself.

Tomorrow would be whatever she made of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yeah. That's it.
> 
> I want to say thank you once again to everyone who's encouraged me to ever get this far. Took about three years to get here. If you've been commenting along this entire time, I'd love to hear your final thoughts, and if you've been a silent passenger, I'd love to hear your final thoughts as well. <3
> 
> This is my last foray in the Frozen fandom for the foreseeable future. I'm currently transferring over to the Buffy fandom, so if you either like the show or are interested in watching it for the first time, I hope to potentially/eventually see you over there.
> 
> I'm also working on an original novel. It's got a somewhat similar shipping dynamic + focus on sibling relationships as this fic does, and I'm always open for beta readers, so if anyone's interested in reading it sometime come... January or February probably, give me a shout out in the comments!
> 
> Love all you guys! <3


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